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The whistles and the flutes

by  PaulAnthony

Posted: Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Word Count: 107

Empty smiles, empty promises.
Hanging suits
like curtains on an empty house.
Perfect teeth, guarding dangerous tongues.
Wild, uncaged.
Dull witted, sharp nose
for gain.
Wholly unholy, corruption entire.
Rarely lost for words, never a word for the lost.
Damp and shallow, product of a bitter storm.
Pious, pragmatic and pathetic.
No calming wind of change just air,
warm and stale.
Metered hands, evaluate each shake,
Worth, worthless, worth, worthless.
Perverted by a transparent power of self inflation.
The tired lies, lost goals and flatline oratory
of moral punchlines.
Compassioned frown of unrelenting self consideration.
No self loathing, uncontested goading.
Cover all the mirrors, democracy is dead.