Words matter

Words dangled helplessly alone
As letters stranded on an unfinished game of hangman
Unhinged rusty trapdoor drops
Royally flushed into broken clock oblivion
Revisited but once in a lifetime
By the Queen of Hearts
Carrying grocery bagged oodles of snacks
For empty stomached children of a lesser God
Drifting to sleep on concrete saddles
While the dogs of midnight keep the sheep in line
Waiting on the profit’s words to arrive
Devoured by Wall Street wrecked nods
Neatly cleaned up by dust bowl developers
And cleverly rearranged by fire ravaged coders
Into newspeak dreams of yesterday
And it’s as if no one has learned a damn thing
As the shopkeeper turns the sign around in the window