Dear Leader - 2011/08/13

He is that filler for our blanks
Or whatever you desire him to be
Claiming to be a powerful leader
Convinced of what nobody can see
What wistful words please people
While his actions reveal the lie
For we speak of the slippery man
Who is silent after we query why

He twists and he turns every way
Much like a circus contortionist
Gazing around us with empty eyes
Forging understanding to subsist
His tone is strong and steadfast
Yet his cerebrum seems paralyzed
For we chase a long term fantasy
An utter fool might have devised

Soon the aftermath will be plain
Yet by then it shall be too late
Though some wise sages may posit
We are already tied to that fate
Though by that I really mean you
For I am the fly free of the web
Whereas you now remain entrapped
While your hopes continue to ebb

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