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Toxic
Toxic!
That's what he is now called.
By his own!
This is not gossip.
His own people have grown tired and sick.
They have thrown him to the curb.
An act he has long deserved.
They wish to be distanced.
And this they are doing quick.
But that should have been done long ago.
Before he was permitted...
To bring upon pain, heartache and sorrows.
Admitting now,
He is radioactive.
He and those who have created these conflicts.
Toxic.
Deadly.
Like a sulfuric gas.
Many have smelled this.
Knowing from him this was passed.
'Yeah...?
But 'who' put him there?
He was not elected.
He was clearly picked and selected!
And he is not the only bearer of these fumes.
Nor should it have taken eight painful years...
To discover he and 'his'
Were poison!
Even the sight of others dieing...
Brought them and so many to rejoice! '
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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