These were the well-timed wise words of a reciprocating
Doctor King to the stinging criticism of his imprisonment in Birmingham
From his fellow godly man
King was a man who planned every step
In solving the ever-evolving enigma of injustice against a whole people
From his steeple to the streets
He urged his flock to sleep soundly upon their oppressors' transgressions
Rather than wrestle forth a confession with obsessive aggression
He undressed a powerful system
Leaving it naked and embarrassed in a wake of finesse and tact.
He was this tiny church mouse that stared down a full herd of bull elephants and won
So one must wonder how he cracked the riddle
While we fiddle about solving our current puzzle box.
Because our country is like Rubik's cube on growth hormones
Where each block is locked with political talks adorned
With both our own social hang-ups and tense atmosphere
We're all actors here, steering cheerily through the day playing Atlas
Nearly collapsing from the weight of each interaction
How fantastic would it be to lift this yoke that chokes these fine folks?
We poke and prod, asking God for a solution to this impossible political pollution
Perhaps some Confucian absolution to our constitution.
But how?
Who, what, when, where, why, how do we fix this enigmatic static state we hate
Where the propaganda machine eradicates the peoples' freedom
To speak out against a powerhouse
There're so many pronounced flaws in the nature of law and legislature
There's this torrent of torment in the form of this new normal
Full of unbalanced checks and unchecked balances.
We plug one hole and two more leaks spring
And each wingtip of the democratic republic publicly muddles the name of the other.
It's a house divided against itself, with empathy subtracted
Sympathy redacted and added symphonies of maddening hate speech
All multiplied by a dissenting one percent.
And at this point, you're probably expecting me to direct a volley of ire-laden fire
At the folly of the guilty party
But isn't that the problem?
We're pissed at a people whose roots we can't see
And rather than brush away a crushing amount of social dirt
To unearth the "why" behind the process,
We pick away petals and are surprised