I wrote the following poem when provided with a poetic theme of "Roads". Cynical? Maybe. It might simply be a symptom of age. And experience...
The Same Old Road
Haven’t you heard? Haven’t you heard?
Election Day is coming soon:
At last the candidates have stirred
Themselves and leaflets have been strewn.
Yes. Countless leaflets through the post
From parties red, green, yellow, blue,
Repeating that familiar boast:
A road to futures bright and new.
The same old road, the same old road.
That’s not the way we want to go.
The rhetoric that they offload,
The plastic faces that they show,
Pretending that they really care,
They all show diff’rent shades of grey,
Not bright at all, so think: is there
Another option we can weigh?
Is there a way? Is there a way?
I wish I knew. I really do.
To win, a party has to sway
The floating voters for a coup,
Convince the unsure and insane,
Convince them that they’ll keep their word,
To drive like cattle down the lane.
Avenue herd. Avenue herd.