A Threadbare year
Still too hot to touch
Those that were poor
Remain so
Those full of hope
Chocked on feathers

Ballot Boxes
Full of X defeating Y

Why this thread of decency and kindness
Has become a dye
Faded like a hippy t shirt
Folded away neatly
To decay and die

Instead they are puffed up bloated
And the I I I and ‘we’ will make our country great again
No matter how many
Fall by the wayside

A threadbare year
Still too hot to touch…
Will there be anything left of it
this time next year