2017Angry is the finish to seventeen’s year.

Fresh with Vitriolic winds of foul political discourse castigating intellect.

Career ending Pungent recollections of deplorable sexual aggression.

Hate spilled into musically exited throngs gathered on a Vegas lawn.

Returning again only to empty pews of Spirit filled faithful with evils chill.

Pedestrians dodging misguided zealot fools, evils ongoing tools.

Endless destruction, battering waves, burying a people under Harvey’s waves.

Island bereft of civilizations best, struggle like a nation, with a sea of debt.

On eighteen’s eve, five uniformed heroes are laid low, one, at heavens gates did go.

Aleppo fell, children were shelled, Shia, Sunni, Hindu or Christian, only God can tell.

Still from this living hell, faithful find blessings and others they tell.

Where one calls victory, the other loss, each here remain free to become the boss.

After the flood, into October they sailed, unlikely heroes, Novembers victory an Astro nailed.

Still it seems much was lost, yet even as we squandered victories our hopes not lost.

In each other we see, the best of you and me as we wait for this year to be set free.

Angry it came, picking and kicking, with a bang, remorse and blessings it’s time away is ticking.

Where there is hope, possibility is the promise, faith carries us when we cannot cope.

Find happiness in the family you find, in the task quite simple in them laughter you find.

Not anger or fear will I leave you here, but prayers for peace in this 2018, a new year.

W.A.Manning ©2017

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