To give is better than to receive, government intended to promote the political needs of the individual. We love the seamy side of American politics. We love finding dead fish left to rot on a sea of public scrutiny. We love to poke at our prize with long sticks for betraying us. We are guilty of the same stench when we vote for political reality than common sense. With every new politician, there exists the need for political ambition than selfless service. Rhetoric rules where common cause should prevail. We suffer the lies to world ridicule. We watch helpless as political factions tinker to destroy. We excuse excess of government for political necessity. We hate the politicians we elect, but continue to elect them anyway. It is a lottery of political misfortune, misdeeds, and pockets of cash for whatever attains these events. Government for the people without the consent of the people. We forgive indiscretion and reward the rhetoric of good political ideals. Sadly, these efforts never truly rally the good intentions of truth in government. This is not thinking cap politics. It is political reality. They serve the common man for political expediency.
The political circus run by donkeys and elephants. Politics making an ass of itself. Name calling theorists exposing wealth as the reason for lacking intelligence for service, they misrepresent the people who inspire our trust. They answer the political call with endless posters dotting our landscape, but fall into mud pastures when answers lie within their grasp. We assemble our troops to promote the message of our new political reality, but know too well the message of lies for winning elections is serving the one and not the many. We bear the long lines at the dawn of a old political climate. We greet our neighbors with dying hope for a brighter future. Elections become the only method to exercise choice, but voting is ritualized. Many choose to avoid the truth about voting, millions choose not to vote for lack of candidates to lead and represent us. We close our eyes as political treachery sends notice to monitor and distract its purpose.
Too many politicians with too few ideas for making a difference, challenge anyone to bring change, but we are lost to the process. Politics promotes but poisons these changes. Compromise for political gain is never the greater good. We wonder why these goals resist change. Sticker shock from the same political lemon, car dealers who are really lie dealers. Power brokers of our failure to promote real change, they stain our fate with the gossip and backbiting. Those who serve become those who refuse to serve, hopefully, the next fool will not serve the same political pulpit. I close my eyes, but listen for the screams of right service and not wrong deeds. We set high hopes for these dreams, but when the bunting gets torn down and the band stops playing, these promises are forgotten. We only remember these lies when the political circus comes to town again. We have killed our democracy every time we vote for the wrong person.
The donkeys blame the elephants. We are more willing to believe the donkeys than the elephants. Every election, we want to shine the truth on these lies. Every vote brings opportunity for changing the same stale message, but faces change and new ideas remain irrelevant. They place blame to distract our purpose. They point fingers to remove their failure. We cannot change what refuses to change. We market their lies through television screens, political ads, and editorial endorsement. Views get reported, but how many lies are allowed before we focus on the real truth about politics. Politicians become cave dwellers after election. They cozy to clever horses defecating on the same hay in government. They understand the political reality of spreading lies than telling the truth.
There is always the need to misrepresent, swindle, and distort the truth. We provide an audience for this spectacle. We shake our heads and wait for the next opportunity to waste our vote. Talk is cheap, but perfected in government service. We sow the seeds of change, but birds of prey eat them before our eyes. We rub our eyes in disbelief. We cannot understand how everything goes wrong with the right person to do what’s right. Capitol is a hill for a good reason. We must climb the slippery slope to discover the truth served by elections. The dome of indifference stares down at us like a grinning spaceship. We knock at the doors to discover our lunacy echoing back to us. We must find another way to pour our voices into the keyhole. We discover the politics of necessity and never the willingness to serve. We leave in tears wondering what happened to the promise of change. Our tears change to laughter when the next election nears. We visit the smiles of broken promises for explanation. The answer given is to blame someone else for their failures. We look into the sincere eyes of those who represent us. They ask for another chance to bang their wrenches against the metal of political fatigue, knowing the full failure exists in us for electing them to serve.
They are never far from scandal. The violinist plays while the city burns. Our footsteps echo these halls to lighten the progress of their burden to serve. We learn to discover their need to serve the elected and never the electorate. We twist from the tight grip of a solemn task to serve and protect. We wipe our hands to remove the sweat of adherence to their common principle for personal reward. We wondered what happened to the politician we met at the election. He smiles at us without a clue to offer hope. Their eyes turn cold to return to their task, we remember the immediate need to hasten from our sight. They avoid our grip. Our questions get answered only with a promise to keep trying. We are treated like a nuisance delaying an important meeting. Importance to them with an excuse for wasting time.
Incompetence should be on trial. The handshake is a slippery slope for very good reason, too. The liars ball of American politics protected to preserve the status quo. Forget the blind army of attendants to this process, they prefer the blindness to the light. Their loyalty is secure, they are the harmless extension of howling at the moon for answers. They patrol the borders and capture intruders. Paperwork is their weapon of choice. Mountains of paperwork stacked high like a fort to outsiders. Flaming arrows do not work to burn this down. They are adept at dousing fires with misinformation. They stand ready to harden their forces, as emails test their patience. Influence buys time for them. Their icy smiles and efficient demeanor are polished over time, minds shooting dust like racing cattle to serve and conceal. They work from rehearsed scripts fashioned over political time. Like yapping dogs for the elected, they bark to distract and bite to defend.