So stark and dreary, this day of judges be,
with scarred scalawags limp in somber defeat.
Are they still useful, or just dried up debris?
Do they wish to win by revolting deceit?
The fragrant smell of a hard-fought victory.
Winds wave a once more respected Old Glory.
As the free people of the world cheer and sing,
Wistful crusaders rest and binge The West Wing.
© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.