The Death of Democracy
It whimpered.
It’s tiny cry
A beacon of hope.
Strangled at birth
By greed,
Power,
Arrogance,
And disdain.
Buried
Under a mound
Of lies.
Its ashes
Spin
Spin
Spin
In the machine
Of power
Where the big dogs play.
All that’s left
Is a game,
A hollow farce.
Spin,
Lie,
Spin.
Play up! Play up!
As the red meat
Of unlucky scapegoats
Is fed to the timid runts.
Only the powerful
Count.
We are controlled
Like mindless
Counters
In a game
Of tiddly-winks.
Opher 18.1.2022
They play us for fools.
They think we will believe anything.
Our short attention spans are so limited.
Our forgetfulness makes us easy to manipulate.
We are being played.
They are good at it.
Only occasionally does their arrogance create a misstep.
The trouble is that they are right.
Too many of us are taken in by these smarmy conmen.
The game of power was never going to allow democracy to live.
Power lies in the hands of consummate liars.