We'll Put Your MAGA Cap on Your Headstone, Grandpa

The clocks' hands all are frozen in the citadel
Of Stasis. Every day begins and ends the same,
And that's what those inside it want. No one
Should die. No one should age, and anyone
Who's unfamiliar can come in to spend his
Money, but he's not allowed to stay. The citizens
Proclaim their greatness, sending armies of their
Children out to battle those of Change. All seems
Well, and fixed forever, but the wind's begun
To blow, and rumors circulate that many
Children, captured, won't come home. More
Of those who live within are dying than are
Being born, and those still living have grown old.
The strangers who arrive have come to sell
Much more than they will buy. The city's walls
Are showing cracks, and roofs of houses slowly
Sag. The citadel, despite its pride, is doomed
To fall to Change.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 122 times
Written on 2019-02-06 at 21:01

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