The Man With No Remorse

The Man With No Remorse

Behind the desk, spurious
Trophies of forgotten things,
Meant to remind the viewers
Of some glory that never existed.

The fists on the table, the sounds
Of the demagogue on wood from
Forests he never owned that he
Razes with fire from foreign weapons.

The eyes fixed at something past
Our shoulders, the attempted
Intimidation of peacekeepers. He’s
Dead inside with his political rage,

The man with no remorse.

R 14/10/2024 16:50