Awash in Stupor

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Awash in Stupor

Awash in Stupor

 

Look at the masses, all the ne'er-do-wells

Who don’t have souls to sell

Follow in lock step, like mindless robots

Rats in a living hell

 

Look in the classes, the future of hope

A propagandist joke

Unison salute, hiel to the despot

They’re sold out for a vote

 

Awash in stupor let the story be told

Of a lie, by a pious higher power

With a scribe of his pen the farce will be doled

To conform, capitulate, and to cower

 

Look who harasses, the mongers of hate

They fuel our fears with bait

Drunk from the cool-aid, it sure hits the spot

Control the lemming’s fate

 

Look through the glasses, spectacles of truth

To see the living proof

Just scope the landscape, the fruited plains rot

Do not be charmed by spoof

 

Awash in stupor let the story be told

Of a lie, by a pious higher power

With a wave of his hand the farce will be sold

To conform, capitulate, and devour

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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