Three and a half by eleven
The days and times
Always fall into place
Strange, problematic
Predictable and planned.
Evil men meet in secret
And oh how they love
Esoteric rites
Exotic, deadly,
Exclusive, and evil.
They threw in their lot
A long time ago
Never looking back
Or looking ahead.
It’s all about money
And it’s all about power
Because they think
We are useless
And stupid.
Expendable tools
And a means to an end
As long as we don’t ask questions
Or rock the status quo.
Always cynical
And always smug
They control many
Through ridicule
And fear.
Surrounded by yes men
Small, stupid, and servile
Who will do anything
And lie about it later.
Ambitious and greedy
Amoral and empty
Capable of anything
To get what they want.
We have all seen them before
And they have always been around
In the front row at every meeting
Nodding their heads.
Small men
With small ideas
Fitting in
And standing on their toes.
Devious and deadly
They crave money
And power
Even if it hurts
Everything and everyone.
Cross them
And you will know
What it means to be attacked
And cut to the bone.
They squirm
And spin their wheels
Thinking of themselves
And nothing more.
Seeking out power
No matter how vile
Attaching themselves
Like a parasite.
Sucking all the blood
And leaving you for dead
Just to climb a single step
On the most ridiculous ladder.
Without ethics
And without a conscience
They are the serpents of late
Getting all they can
For as long as they can.
They hate God
Because they want to be God
Sitting above us all
Bowed down
And dead.
Look at them now
And see them lust for power
Striving blind
Until the last dying day.
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