The Gift Of Polished Rhetoric Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

One who speaks,
With an unfiltered tongue.
And without the gift,
Of polished rhetoric done...
Will always offend those accustomed,
To censoring what they wish.
Even words heard,
From career politicians.
Normally selling,
The same delusions bought.
Yet...
Ultimately sought.

Today...
Only one seems to have appeared,
To have attracted an audience...
Eager to hear,
Someone who has made it clear...
A version of truth not before to be heard,
Stirring imaginations...
Of those who perceive today they deserve,
Someone willing who has the nerve...
To serve them salt and pepper.
Without putting them to sleep,
With familiar sweetened treats.
To greet the next day feeling bitter.

Although statistics will always show,
People will often come to pick...
One who knows best how to politic.
And prepared to be filtered.
Regardless how polished.
Or gifted they are to deliver the same rhetoric.
Those in the game to have remained,
Playing it longer...
May provoke the folks who will still vote,
Them over others to choose.

Familiarity may breed contempt.
But the one who expects to be offended,
Is seldom going to run away from opposition.

'She lies!
He Lies!
They all have lied! '

This is not the time to discuss facts.
Everyone knows that.
But the question is...
Who has done it the best?
And...
Who has had more experience,
In the doing of it more effectively...
Than another who has made promises,
We already know...
None of them will be kept.