A poem by Darren Weeks
An operative and a Deep State shill
Receiving the orders from Capitol Hill
Lying and killing for nefarious reason
Some might go so far as to call it treason
Arranges he the propaganda and deception
Attempting to sway the public perception
Controlling the thoughts of the people's mind
Tether them with the heavy shackles that bind
Bow to your masters, to evil pay homage
Glut yourselves on the rewards they promise
Licking their boots, hope to you they'll be kind
To the suffering you create, you will be blind
Swimming pools, yachts, suburban expansion
Add another wing to the Virginia mansion
Damn all humanity and its children to hell
It doesn't matter as long as you're living well
Grovel to Satan as you murder, deceive
No one knows the evil that you conceive
Constitution is dead, is what you believe
No Bill of Rights when there's money to bleed
But looking ahead when the mission is won
Project's winding down; agents' work is done
Many assignments where ethics were blurred
Mafia bosses never get what they deserve
So many secrets they know you had
Crying shame if you let the cat out of the bag!
Stalked, harassed, you're phone rings at night
Family serenity now broken with freight
Nowhere to turn, no one to trust
Wishing you could turn back your unquenchable lust
A traitor's life is but a vapor
Tomorrow they will read about you in the paper
Men in dark coats approach and yell
A desperate move in an expensive hotel
Of you it is said from the balcony fell
Who would have thought you would kill yourself?
When you work for the Deep State year over year,
Betraying the principles in which you were reared,
Just remember when humanity you screw,
When you're usefulness is gone, you will be too.
[Image credit: annca / Pixabay.]
