by Neil Chopra

Pendulum hoisted by one side,
Until too heavy, it then does glide
Back to hungry, waiting hands
Unprepared to meet demands;
They then take blame for every crime
No matter how they make their stand.

If race in team becomes too close,
Paint friends as if the devil chose
To send them up on his behalf
And lead us down a wicked path;
But if they tickle knees at most,
Raise them, kiss their cheek and laugh.

Red meat fed to become captain,
Words so raw, facts out of ration;
Well-done before they take the field,
A brand new strategy revealed;
Softened words, more tempered passion,
Else fate of defeat will be sealed.

Commending one you vowed to fight
Even when their choice is right,
Takes a bullet from the chamber
As you warn us of their danger;
Simpler just to vilify
So the shot can be used later.

Priority in raising funds
To purchase votes in bulk at once;
Opponent may never be met
If successfully outspent;
New ideas don’t load the gun,
Expensive rounds keep you in debt.

Questions through a hollow tunnel
Spark a scripted, known rebuttal
To a ghost who didn’t ask,
But accepts your painted mask;
Avoid the risky, merciless trouble
Of thinking before answering back.

If the pieces fall into place,
A tightrope crossed to win the race,
Turn attention to your sponsors
And present them with an offer:
Your choices traded in exchange
For their replenishing your coffers.

The union’s state always superb,
A rosy picture drawn and served;
Cherry-picking softer colors
Or hardened ones that might scare others;
Ignoring every challenge heard
That might pull the rug from under.

New message taken on the road
To halls in towns already sold;
Thunderous applause guaranteed
When no counterpoint is seen;
Locked in propaganda mode,
Debate might cause you to concede.

The cycle repeats from the top,
What was raised up will now soon drop;
What came on waves will leave in shame,
All promises lost in the game;
The only way to make it stop:
Filter the noise and use our brain.

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