Mandate

[billy]

Ink flows from barrels through tips, and is jettisoned onto a cellulose matrix.
The frame widens, revealing dots that mean nothing at first glance.
But when viewed with a certain kind of eye, or a certain kind of mind, they mean everything.


Money changes hands, words are whispered, deals struck.
Important choices are forfeit to satisfy urgent needs and immediate appetites.
Fingers are stained. The gunk will wash off, but the sin will not.


At the end of it all, a leader will emerge, and as always, people will doubt the process.
One knows that one has participated faithfully, but have the others as well?
One knows that he did not play a fool; this does not mean that the play was no farce.


Here's hoping that whoever gains the throne remembers...


In any given kingdom, the king sits below his crown.

obviously about the elections.
for me it's well written though it could do with some line breaks
to make it less prose.

i like that the rant isn't a real rant, it's more of a hopeful rant, a questioning.

this line in particular made me think.

Fingers are stained. The gunk will wash off, but the sin will not.

has the ability in my opinion of becoming a better poem than the prose it is, with just a very small edit form wise. thanks for the reads WK.