When Democracy Died (a poem)

When democracy died, I was reading Kafka –

gunshots blared + factions fought for ideals

they thought worth dying for –

TVs tuned to Washington +

the White House went dark,

troops marched + destroyed dissidents.

When democracy died, we should’ve seen it coming –

the anger embraced by so many,

confused by conspiracies +

the way the world had progressed so fast –

average people left behind +

autocrats rallying rowdy mobs

of crazed citizens who chanted +

foamed at the mouth.

When democracy died, we became part of history +

lurched into a future where only strongmen survived,

a place not kind to artists,

a valley of the shadow of death where

only our faith could save us.

(Photo by Spenser on Unsplash)

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