Some things never change, maybe never will

I wrote this way back in 2003 and today it appears to still be true.

A Sentinel Story , 2003

7/06/2003             Generally I'm cleansed from the bitters of politics and the ironies of everyday life when I garden, mow the grass, or do the simple things that remind me of who I really am and of what is really good. But last week as I toiled in the yard, this just grew in my head. I sat down and penned it on a grocery list. This is too sad I thought, so I put it away and let it rest. Now a week later, it seems all too real and so necessary to say. Like so many old men, I know something is wrong, but have neither the knowledge, the energy nor the will to rectify the wrong. But somewhere out there a young mind may read this and have the vigor and the answer to save the nation. God love him or her.             Democracy The hypocrisy, Of the plutocracy, Calling itself democracy, Is a direct affront to you and to me. In the beginning the system to be, Called itself a democracy. Designed, it was you see, As a benefit for you and me. But somewhere along the line, Some indefinable point in time, An aristocracy rose in this nation of mine, A disease that attacked its very spine. The two party system created of old, Was designed for balance I was told. It gave us a choice in our vote to hold, The power of law in our hands so bold. But at some point in time the two became one, Owned by lobbyists with money to fund. The plutocrats scoffed at laws that forbade, They lived on a plateau above laws that they made. Perhaps it started when representatives did mingle, With kings and dictators whose pockets did jingle, With coin of the realm taken from peoples hands, With immeasurable power over all of their lands. They fostered ideas, too complex, for Dick, Jane or Bobby; But well understood by corporate or international lobby. They put on a show as each party had its cause, But the truth, it showed, in the wording of laws. They did it in closed sessions, beneath a cloak. That way they hid it from ordinary folk. They pillaged the treasury, ignored promises made, To care for the old, the young, and the war veterans repaid. The country sinks, from all of the weight, Of pork barrel projects, wars and vicious debate. We swell the populace, with people who hate, America's lifestyle, and want to form their own state. The nature of excess is to be its own fate. My fear is, the pendulum, may swing too late, To return the country, to ideals once great, To roust, the plutocrats and clean the slate. Bill