Mid-Term Election Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A heavy shadow falls across the land,
With deals made by a careless, grasping hand.
A bargain struck for diesel and for gain,
While far away, the people suffer pain.

The world is watching as the balance tips,
With reckless words upon a leader's lips.
Like someone wild inside a room of glass,
He lets the peace and safety slowly pass.

The fuel flows out, the strategy is bent,
Ignoring all the warnings that were sent.
A nation's strength is traded for a price,
Ignoring every piece of good advice.

The people stand before a coming gate,
To choose a path before it is too late.
To stop the greed, the shouting, and the pride,
And turn the value of the moral tide.

No more the schemes that put the self in front,
No more the chaos of the daily hunt.
The ballot box must hold the final key,
To keep a nation safe and truly free.