Charles J. Ingerson


Gilded hallways and doors
grand staircases to flaunt
covered by paint the sores
everything good to taunt.

Opening fresh new stink
calling for the milk spoiled
bribes and lusts to wink
skins shinny and oiled.

Descending the elevator
into the recesses of home;
pretending a magistrator
using scimitar and stone.

Claiming linage to Prophets
profaning the words of hope
drinking the widows sweats
killing children with dope.

Cascading the river swells
diamonds sparkle in gloom
confusions found in bells
marking the beginning doom.

Home in hell to relish dead
breath captured and still
thinking a country once led
ever again obey your will.

Home in hell to be found
haughty and isolated alone
your silence shrills in sound
never these crimes to atone.

Grateful I’ve only got mercy
loving one and all unfeigned
never to be a judge of history
or how in horror you’ve reigned.

Legacy will paint you as one
in glyph’s of archeology
your memory forever won
even as others with apology.

Home in hell life bestowed
to those who mercy implored
evil the world once showed
and humanity wickedly deplored.

Cast out or dead matters not
carrion for the birds of feast
you’ll not soon ever be forgot
with those thought as the least.