Crestfallen Concerns

Clock in, complain, comply.

Click on the TV, check the phone, cringe at the circumstances our country has caved to.

Climate catastrophe, without congressional care, countless corpses, with no plans for conclusion.

A child predator commander, controlling the cabinet and cretinous devotees, cramming their craniums with concrete.

Collectors of cash cackle at the catastrophe their contemptible actions have caused. No care for the cries or the citizens who die, so long as their pockets are lined.

They call on Christ, craving salvation, caterwauling for classes uncoached by their celestial idol.

Contemporary Christ communicates no kindness, kindling contemplation of killing and cruelty, while the Council of Criminal Conduct clings to the credulous church of contempt.

All to control souls who crave to be left alone, conjuring concepts to coerce conventional criteria.

Click off the TV, cease doom-scrolling.

Keep up college commentary, cut out crummy convictions.

Clean my chambers, converse with neighbors, keep up a convincing semblance of calm.

Face coercion for children, while scarcely contending with credit and current global concerns.

Continue commissions, earn checks, pay debt.

Crack at being creative, compete with copy paste computers, collapse like a knackered corpse.

Clock out.

Poem by M. W. Upham Cover Art by SašA A: https://www.saatchiart.com/en-mt/augustanec