how doth thou rest when thy soul and its spirit are
dressed in attire where thy shirt is drenched of
anger and vile, trouser pockets are filled with
mire, sewn by threads worn by a coward
thine ears must hear the wailing and the cries
from children’s tear-filled eyes of anguish
due to empty bellies and broken hearts,
being torn apart from mother's arms
is there no shame in thy heart for all this pain
caused, for the gravity of your actions, for
the tasteless discourse via the tongues of
sycophants mimicking your divisive hate
