Walking sullied streets,
noting all the old deceits;
gold leaf peeling off in sheets.
~
Cracked and weathered stone,
reminiscent of old bone
cast aside to rot alone.
~
Maybe I’m jaded,
but it’s luster has faded,
past dignities degraded.
~
How have we become,
so uncaring, heartless, numb,
is there naught that can be done?
~
Dare we even try
to uphold truth to that lie,
“Great Republics can not die“?
~
If we can’t, we’re done.
Hare on off and have some fun.
Democracy’s race is run.
Inspired by 20,000 steps in Washington DC as RBG is Lain-in-State beneath the dome of a capital building closed to all but a restricted few of her citizens.
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The ripples of her passing will be felt far and wide. Democracy under serious threat.
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