Swallowed in Contempt

Subtle undercurrents
of politics and prejudice
run beneath the bonds
of family and friends
that may or may not be

The snakes in the grass
strike at our ankles
as we walk
through blades that scratch and cut

And each reaches out
to grasp their truth
for sense in the madness
while mixing imbibing
a solution of sadness

For no-one knows
and no-one dares
to say what they really think,
so we just drink.

© The Drummer Poet


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