Poem: Voices of the Dead

By: Gary Beck


I think about our wounded land
crushed by overwhelming burdens
and wish that voices from the past
could counsel us in time of need.
But then I wake and remember
our paucity of leadership
and wonder if myths long ago
about the founding fathers
were created to deceive us.

Some yearn for a man on horseback
to bring certainty, banish doubt.
Others wish for a fiery man
to lead them to the barricades.
Those not content with the present
submerge themselves in nostalgia,
or become career criminals.
Many continue to struggle,
hoping for a better future,
much too frightened to accept
diminishing opportunity.


Categories: Poetry

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