I haven’t written in a while and the words come slow. I manage to type notes out all day long on facebook, but at this moment the essay is halting, not eager to come to the page. And the reason is...
Lately, or at least these last six months, I’ve thought of nothing else except politics...or the left side of the right side...maybe not so much politics as what’s right and wrong, whatever that means these days. The just and the truthful; the moral majority seems to be lacking in the words they were meant to mean.
Where are the spokespeople there once was? The government officials, the hands we elected to set the pen to paper to meet the issues to move us forward, not the scribble that has taken shape with the election of this so-called president who seems to want to run the lives of the world...maybe not run as much as ruin. The appointments are in and out like a revolving door, and the bodies are flung through the air, sprung from a catapult...never to be seen again.
The Russians are eager to take the potus’ hand, guiding his journey through the White House hallways. A house he calls a dump...Day and night, night and day, another door closes to our democracy; another door locks as we are pushed into the darkness of despair...the sadness, the depressive rhetoric that tweets day and night from a mad man, a dictator of supreme order; this is his notoriety speaking, his pulpit of fame, his leadership on the pathway to darkness...taking us along in his wake of destruction.
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