Disbelief shall be our loss,
wading through deception.
Want and desire play their
hand against fact and fate.

Like so much sour milk,
our longings spill out.
Transformation resists,
a stalemate results.

Incredulous masses
stand their ground,
disregarding what
lies directly in their path.

Over time, downfall imminent.
But, who shall stand for right?
We wear our blinders so well,
when we follow prideful ways.

Turning our heads,
diverting our eyes,
in the end we slither past
death’s mournful call.

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA with her husband and two cats. She loves gardening and cooking. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore. *(a complete list of publications is available upon request) Read other articles by Ann Christine.