In the media circus,
the clowns have the show nailed down.
The audience in the palm of their hands.
Splitting us into groups,
haves and have nots.
Did you take your shots?
Race, sex, religion and more,
they want us to feel like the enemy is constantly at the door
Keep your eyes on the ball
as they juggle with the truth.
They throw in a few misquotes
to keep us interested in the bile that they spew.
But you never watch their faces,
painted smiles, wicked grimaces,
hiding the lies that they throw to you.
The ringmaster enters the fray,
spilling his misdirection.
Look over there,
it's a politician.
Makes you want to retch,
this fire-breathing letch.
But they are not your enemy, says the ringmaster with glee
it's the person in the seat cheering beside thee.
The way they spin lies they share,
like a trapeze artist flying through the air.
All eyes on them, all part of the illusion,
So that you don't see the clowns colluding.
The audience claps and whoops,
lapping it all up,
until someone sends in the troops
and we realise the whole show is corrupt.
Thank you for reading
Peace, Love and Poetry
Kyle
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