"The Vine"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about political corruption.

Submitted: June 12, 2012

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Submitted: June 12, 2012




“THE VINE” by Sean Byrne


The vine was a mere seed

When I took that seat

But when they gave me the water

My morals it began to impede


I came in saying I’m different

But now the vine has spread

It makes my stomach churn

Money and power is my bread



The vine that grows inside me

Grips my ears and tongue

Instead of being the voice of the people

On ties and suits my mouth is clung


Mr. Speaker, point of order?

When did we all give in?

We don’t represent JP Morgan Chase

We’re supposed to represent our kin


But that vine grows oh so powerful

The ivy grows and crams the holes

Where we might work together

And not be addicted to charts and polls


Vines grow out our mouths

Spewing talking points throughout the land

Instead of arguing our beliefs

We use vine-covered pejorative shorthand


Mr. Speaker, point of order?

Is it on hell that we are bent?

When we live and die with petty arguments

But pass corruption by unanimous consent?


The vine makes us disappear

Into our collar we go

Once a man with good intentions

Now a suit on the side of foe


Waging war unfettered

By the constitution or the law

But winning re-election oh so often

Because we have a chiseled jaw


Mr. Speaker, point of order?

Why do we let business exploit, mislead and steal?

For them, it means a free ride

For the people, it means a prison meal


But yet, my heart lets it happen

Because the vine has made it a vapid abyss

It no longer pumps blood, but cash

Because for us, your ignorance is our bliss

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