Political Assassination

Upon the parlor steps collected ribbons
Had turned our home into a dolorous pitch
With the scent of women gathering the given
Would that this grim could reach the rich
And fight blemished leisure for love or hope
For my heart lay bleeding
With neither hope nor love
My Mother was gone
She would never return
To this life of corrupt wretchedness
Such murderous malcontents
Who would kill the angelic soul
Of my Mother
When, had never a day in her life
Done naught but to breathe the breath
Of kindness and light into the cowslip
Of all that grew elegantly
In this life...

Today, I stand before you sweet Jesus
In tears, begging for justice
For with this autonomous pack of wolves
It appears
Our governments justice system
Cry's out for realignment,
And upon the parlor steps
Of my mother's home
The blood stains
Will never wash
Themselves clean,
Without,
Political assassination ....

Tony Taylor