Puppet on Strings

Tonight I see a vestigial sight

A puppet on invisible strings

Preaching such wonderful things

They listen to him blindly

Saying things to you and me

I turn away a blind ear

Everyone else glued to the screen

Drinking up every word he has to say

Do they realize it has all been said before

Every president says the same

Regardless of a name

You will hear it all again and again

When will this end I ask you my friend

Those words drop to the floor

I can’t take anymore

His nose continues to grow

Longer and longer there it goes

He reminds me of a trapped fly

As days go by he hangs there

Behind a web of words a web of lies

A spokesperson for the order

Whose side is he really on

Mr President continues to babble on

No matter the color of skin they carry

Never will they convince me

-Andrew Luna

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