Nightly News
David Muir,
thinking the thoughts of junior high,
pretending to be a journalist,
only a pretty boy,
demanding more time on screen,
wherever the story,
whenever the time,
he is ready,
nodding solemnly,
walking in his tight blue jeans,
hair, just right,
living his life in the shallows of the mind,
not sophisticated enough,
even to truly think,
only a tool to be used,
and laughed at behind his back,
a journalist,
he will never be.
Beheaded
little people,
too small for history to acknowledge,
attack the marble and stone,
ignorant acts,
they preach about wrongs,
past and present,
tearing down statues of this nation's past,
to demand change,
gutless and dependent,
they can not rely on their arguments,
or themselves,
sharing the same mental attitudes of their ancestors,
the ones in actual chains.
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