the dead do

The dead do . . . .

Only the dead can understand,
the insanity of living.
It’s a very honest thought,
and very unforgiving.

Does no one care to argue,
debate no less.
Anger will defeat, also temper,
all known will digress.

Lost is a voice to sound,
when shouts loudly.
Silence is an artful friend,
words spoken proudly.

Correct what may start to veer,
brazen bends corrupt
Hope to find all good men first,
else ending is abrupt.

Now cry as soaring eagle chick,
as flight begins
Study and digest each word,
all are not our sins.

Tell honest story teller,
not to leave a post.
Justice sweeps past as ice,
and then as now
be lost…