Conservative Twilight

The conservative man
Going his way
Sensing of danger,
tho oft led astray.

He lives a good life
With few vices hidden,
Two cars and a house
With a wife angst ridden.

Put upon often
And scapegoated too,
He bears each slight
Knowing not what to do.

What holds the future
Left holding the bag,
In yesterday’s progress
He plants his black flag.

His flag is tattered
It’s faded and low,
While he was busy
It was made a rainbow.

What will he do
He owns many a gun,
He’s getting angry
But the big game is on.

It can wait till tomorrow
Have another beer,
Drink the pain away
Youngest son now a queer.

To sandbox o’ersea
His eldest son went,
For freedom, right? His blood now spent.

His daughter bares all
Online for coins,
He cries alone
For the fruit of his loins.

Distracted by tv
The market is up,
It may seem bad
But half full is his cup.

What can stir him
Give him fuel,
To rebel perhaps
When his belly is full.

He knows not want
But for what is past.
He’s often angry,
But the anger won’t last.

His fist is clinched
During half time shows,
Tyrone scored a point!
Down another beer goes.

A slow death he’s dying
But medication helps,
Not death fit for man
But that of a welp.

-By Dixie Anon