The One With The Wicked Cowlick

Shadows cast their weight ,
over the credulous  who give
 suck, to the toxin that spurts  
from the mouth , of the one
with the wicked cowlick ,
and defensive grin.

His words, laced with
belladonna fill the cup ,
from which they drink, the
 intoxicant a tinder , for blind
hateful pride that turns the
 millstone ,of racism in crimson
waters where liberty , and
the voices of mourners ,drown.
 
 Come nigh, dollar bills rush in
like a savior  in a storm, no relief
 for those who rake bodies ,
 into a pile like fallen leaves
waiting to be burned .
 
Appealing words stand ,dressed
 in fancy suits  offering
piecemeal justice and
 fractured fairy tales  
in exchanged for silence  
 
The sun rests on Lady Liberty
 see her fade  cold and barren?
Smiling, is the one with the
 wicked cowlick  and defensive
grin,  as he cuts out her tongue  
and screams, liar at the moon