Florence Weinberger-lII
Plague
It isn’t stroke or old age
that erases our language
and razes our voices.
A blight has muffled tenderness.
The righteous have resigned.
Some, given cash incentives,
sell their minds.
Convinced they are ineffective,
the good stay home.
The self-elected fill the gap,
inventing truths, disinfecting lies.
Like ravaging birds they cross the land
squawking caw caw caw caw caw,
we will change your life.
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