Things will be different.
No more children in cages
No more parents reunited
With their children
without success.
Some say the Presidency
defines the man,
others the man
defines the Presidency.
No more neo-Nazi
death cars
No more dictatorial
fears to worry
About.
A dictator dies
A thousand deaths,
A true man grows
A thousand lives
No more living things
cut down to their roots.
No more
hardened hate-filled
Walls.
A con-man can only con
even himself for so long.
In the next one
Sleeping babies will
sleep more soundly.
Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and semi-retired trial lawyer who studied poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy previously received a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science from Boston University, an M.A. in Government from Georgetown University, and a J.D. from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy’s poetry has appeared most recently in Chiron Review, TheNewVerse.News, Ariel Chart, Social Justice Poetry, Poetry24, Right Hand Pointing/One Sentence Poems, I am not a silent poet, The Potomac, Clark Street Review and the penmen review.
