The Incremental Winter
The people brave the cold
of this incremental winter,
the change that never comes;
discontent and negligence like
vapour in the air,
clinging to these cold, cold streets.
It’s frigid here, where the empathy
has frozen over.
The grassroots died in this arctic desert
There’s no trees here anymore,
their low hanging fruit has been ravaged,
and their shade thrown at the enemy.
Hail falls on copper rooves
an echo chamber
for the din of broken promises.
These policies lack substance,
and every winter storm
now volleys with the howling of inaction.
‘Honourable’ Prime Minister, the warm embrace
of your cold shoulder does little
to overcome the permafrost,
and we the people grow tired
of this incremental winter.
NaPoWriMo day 6, another combination of political rants and poetry. As always, drop your thoughts down below and hit that follow button to stay updated on new content! -MC