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The Fear Of Power

Trump
Russia
Lines drawn in the street
the culmination of echoes from our past

The lines being drawn in the sand
when will we ever understand
there is bloodshed in our street
Send the troops home

There's no good reason for them to roam
these are desolate times
We have settled for ill faded rhyme
the resistance is enormous

For a stated cause that's plain atrocious
merciful one come take this chip off my shoulder
stop the senseless fighting as our nation grows colder
North Korean Nukes

Falling in the wrong hands
The art of the deal may not be a big deal
The wall
Have we just elected a know it all ?

Review Request (Intensity): 
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Editing stage: 

Comments

what you say in this poem. Not only from a political standpoint, but the work is good too.
A couple of small points; I would try to use a different word than culmination. The high point or zenith of echoes just doesn't seem to fit. maybe say [ a multitude of echoes from our past].
How about [for the cause of peace, it's too horrific]? good work, just a few little bobbles. ~ Gee.
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