promise

Day one

Under grey January skies
An orange hued voice rambles
On and on about frivolities,
Spewing its languid hatred
And swaying the masses
Like trees bent under powerful wind
With false promises
Of a better future
Composed of a whimsical greatness
Of which no one can hold
When the truth really looks
Outward with greedy eyes,
Counting its profit, fame, and power.

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Through the elements

Out of torments,
Storms form the north,
Rains from the south,
You seemed to grow
Declining to recognize
The lack of warmth
All along promising to yourself
That one day the sun would come