So it is that strong feelings can make political rhetoric destructive; For in them are inexhaustible reservoirs of prejudices ideologically driven; Passions are only morally good when they leave behind the stupidity; Yet politicians orientate their feelings away from the visionary; Their beliefs mobilizing their passions, with every doubt accompanying them.        

On a city's western edges, the imprimatur of poverty stains the streets; Where tribal set-upons happen over a loose fence paling; Strife indwells, seemingly seismic; Creating subcultures from out of the pressure; The spray-painted symbols that are stolen by art school students; Printed on torn t-shirts the poor kids can steal.

When the Church nourishes the conscience with revealed truths, hearers are in awe of its teaching; For the humble preacher is their god whom the listeners are wishfully hearing; Against doubt the lurching collect their guilt and correct their mishearing; Through faith they accept the Church’s moral authority with complete trust in its pulpit preaching; With its promises of hope the Church mandates itself to do its persuasive outreaching.  

That each democratic renewal is for the incumbent or for the opposition; At the election each producing policies with the usual dogmatic air; Both with the long view that citizen manipulation is for the polls; Somewhere in the electorate there will be that quivering dissent; Mouth-borne maladies best treated with a dose of dismissing.