The Blame

or

How to Survive in Politics

A violent storm out on the sea, 
Upon an island with a tree, 
Left for life but only three, 
Who now lamented in the heat. 
One Steve, 
One Lee, 
One Pete. 
All hope of rescue obsolete. 

A sickening stench intensely reeked, 
Upon the island with a tree, 
And drove to madness all the three. 
Too quick the blame was cast on Steve. 
They heaved, 
And beat 
Poor Steve 
‘Till death. Then sank him in the sea. 

It seemed, then, clear the smell was Lee, 
Upon the island with a tree, 
Provoking Pete to kill from need, 
To cleanse the island of the stink. 
He heaved, 
And beat 
Poor Lee 
‘till death. Then sank him in the sea. 

Ridden with guilt became of Pete, 
Upon the island with the tree, 
Who tied a boulder to his knee, 
Then brought himself into the deep. 
And screamed 
“The stink! 
It’s ME!” 
Then sank himself into the sea. 

A violent storm out on the sea, 
Upon an island with a tree, 
Left for life but only three, 
Who cast each other to the deep. 
Poor Steve. 
Poor Lee. 
Poor Pete. 
For all that time it was the tree.


I wrote this poem in response to the first presidential debate I saw after college.  Nothing diminishes my attitude about human nature as much as politics.

  • CATEGORY: uncategorized

  • 10-21-2012

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