Falling Regimes

There beneath the spit and polish.
There’s a boy whose been demolished.

Faced with his own emotion.
That yearns to roll into the ocean.

But it’s thwarted, it’s attacked.
All by he, it is held back.

And rearranged in suppression.
As an orchestrated expression.

With perfect levels of veneer.
Released with pride in the clear.

And with that, it’s too denied.
Deepening his great divide.

The facets, yes, the warring halves.
All disguised as golden calves.

The fallacies, perhaps the frauds.
The coverings of the flawed.

One that’s praised by all or most.
Except for she, his lovely ghost.

The one of his cherished past.
The one that was supposed to last.

The one that vanished from his view.
The one he used to pursue.

A war so simple, as it seems.
As the fall of corrupt regimes.

Felled by faith, by trust and truth.
Its veneer’s long in the tooth.

Not a process but an event.
It was foretold and heaven sent.

It’s time to let these fetters go.
And let his feelings roam and flow.

Let them have and seize their day.
Let it all fall where it may.