Vote With A Bullet

When the pops stop,
and all goes silent,
except the faint sounds of,
crying.

When the masses scatter,
to escape what’s coming,
they run to keep from,
dying.

When the world’s cold,
and no one cares,
to see if anyone’s,
surviving.

When all the talk,
is about the guns,
it feels like nobody’s,
tying.

When life is measured,
by numbers of votes,
we must ask who’s,
buying.

If you enjoyed this you should check out these other great poems!

Eternity Unfurled

Forgive Us Our Trespasses

Poetry Classics: Advice To A Son, By Ernest Hemingway