What Actually Holds Sway

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Sitting beneath liberty’s idol,
Wreath-bearing, toga adorned,
Sits a mortal, memory’s child—
Bald and bewildered—
The breeze whisps around wild,
And why should it be mild
As the bones of the once living,
Lie in number-marked graves,

Dead—all dead—

So a granite statue
Named “Genius Liberty”
Can freely stand.

Yet, in this land,
Toupee totalitarianism holds sway.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.

Tittu

Poet’s Note:
For context, written in Soldier’s National Cemetery. Gettysburg, PA.