Halftime

My back hurts when I’m filled with rage.
So much resistance left to wage.

We’re only halfway thru this fuck.
Can’t give up; or we’re out of luck.

Hoping for oxygen, this fall.
Hoping this hate will hit a wall.

Existential pain ratcheted.
Guardrails bent, rent & hatcheted.

I’ve seen pushback around the edge.
Self-servers beginning to hedge.

So, time & pressure effect change.
All while the base grows more estranged.

A loser lone tick burrowed in…
Will need smoking out by good men.

The lion’s share will breathe & fete.
For, what you vote for’s what you get.