These were the well-timed wise words of a reciprocating Doctor King to the stinging criticism of his imprisonment in Birmingham From his fellow godly man King was a man who planned every step In solving the ever-evolving enigma of injustice against a whole people From his steeple to the streets He urged his flock to sleep soundly upon their oppressors' transgressions Rather than wrestle forth a confession with obsessive aggression He undressed a powerful system Leaving it naked and embarrassed in a wake of finesse and tact. He was this tiny church mouse that stared down a full herd of bull elephants and won So one must wonder how he cracked the riddle While we fiddle about solving our current puzzle box. Because our country is like Rubik's cube on growth hormones Where each block is locked with political talks adorned With both our own social hang-ups and tense atmosphere We're all actors here, steering cheerily through the day playing Atlas Nearly collapsing from the weight of each interaction How fantastic would it be to lift this yoke that chokes these fine folks? We poke and prod, asking God for a solution to this impossible political pollution Perhaps some Confucian absolution to our constitution. But how? Who, what, when, where, why, how do we fix this enigmatic static state we hate Where the propaganda machine eradicates the peoples' freedom To speak out against a powerhouse There're so many pronounced flaws in the nature of law and legislature There's this torrent of torment in the form of this new normal Full of unbalanced checks and unchecked balances. We plug one hole and two more leaks spring And each wingtip of the democratic republic publicly muddles the name of the other. It's a house divided against itself, with empathy subtracted Sympathy redacted and added symphonies of maddening hate speech All multiplied by a dissenting one percent. And at this point, you're probably expecting me to direct a volley of ire-laden fire At the folly of the guilty party But isn't that the problem? We're pissed at a people whose roots we can't see And rather than brush away a crushing amount of social dirt To unearth the "why" behind the process, We pick away petals and are surprised