Socialist Sonnet No. 65

Where Truth Lies

 

It seems there’s a self-appointed elite

Who are the exception that proves their rule,

And consider it’s only for the common fool

To abide by their laws; such their conceit.

These are leaders, those special chosen few,

Rising like Messiahs above the herd,

Convinced that truth is a flexible word

And a word can mean what they want it to.

Should they ever be caught telling a lie,

It will turn out they had their fingers crossed,

Or, perhaps, truth is a lie that’s been glossed,

And who cares anyway, let it pass by.

Follow my leader is just blind man’s buff,

And while folk shrug, leaders are secure enough.

 

D.A.

 

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