They Wear the False Hoods

POEM FOR THE LOST, STOLEN, STRAYED, LOST, FOUND, and REMADE. There comes a time in everyone's day when justice lays its firm hand down. Breaks up confounded babbled grounds of manufactured rage. Piece-meal facts relax media's bond. False-breaking news, gagged and bound. Ploy's tactical defense relied upon, disappear at the wink of a trounce. The brink of dawn is on the horizon, near. Get out the way. There's crumbled debris. Clear the way and have no fear. With the faith of a mustard seed, we are guaranteed victory.