This Pleasure Fest Has Crested Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

The pleasure fest has crested.
Investments concurred,
Has placed us on the verge...
With more nerves on the edge.
Restless and undeserving,
Are those who pledged
Allegiance to chaos and confusion,
Fed.

This pleasure fest has crested quick.
Many have grown tired and sick,
Of promises diminishing.
With dreams discarded into bits...
Leaving behind minds in torned tidbits!

And patience sought begins to cease.
Delusions once embraced,
Are tossed upon the streets.
Where is this democracy working at home?
This pleasure fest has crested quick.
And many unbelieving it...
Are left in disturbing quests.
As they seek to get answers from those exposed,
Showing an obvious melting down of minds
Mentally distressed as they become more opposed!
And unfamiliar are those,
Receiving these reactions...
At their frontdoors freed of welcome mats.
Facing displeasures none condone,
Or found funny to be laughed at!