Nationalists (a poem)

Nationalists

The blind patriot is now a parody,

A joke that lives,

Walks and breathes,

Among us,

Pestering us.

Yet was never one of us,

Was never a human,

A person,

But always a monster.

Lingering and trolling about,

So in a manner that the even the vulgar blush.

What poison they are to our world,

Our circle,

Our community.

That which could be peaceful,

They make unpleasant,

And forlorn

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s