We walk into the political meeting
certain we shall hear the future
certain that the trust we have
will be respected above all else
The rest of the world watches
as we lose our minds in minutia
the correct tie or poorly clipped hair
it is the first impression of democracy
Each of us climbs a mountain
as we step into the voting booth
some of us jump off the cliff
still others scratch away their
warpaint
Each lever or X that's scratched
tells us that we are correct
yet when mistakes are made
we never call our decisions bad
Our brain is a dog on a leash
sniffing at the odors along a path
rabbit this way squirrel that
a phrase in the speech tugs the same
Barry G. Wick
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