help me finish it. [draft 1]

with a distance the size of the ocean
between reality and your idea of peace,
footsteps mark the undying motion
of marching children; devoted.

but sir you insist this is just survival
and we'll believe anything when on our knees.
nations bleeding for simple revival,
please tell me why this has to be.

the words out of your mouth form
repetition like a scratched, over-used record.
these same words circulate and sworm
the conscious mind of the "free" vote.

devoured.

realism is lost. media creates
torture into nothing but entertainment.
deception on that fateful date
when race decided your freedom.

lost.