Concord Rise

The Lighthouse doesn’t move.  
But the ones steering the ship?  
They circle the harbor,  
debating whether the rocks are real.  
They kick the can,  
not to clear the path,  
but to avoid the walk.  
They speak of service,  
but serve delay.  
They call it compromise—  
but it’s collapse in slow motion.  
Let the Light expose the cracks.  
Let the beam reveal the bluff.  
Let the people see who’s steering,  
and who’s just spinning the wheel.