Dear Friends,
In a land where the truth has a perimeter,
While the law plays itself out in miniature,
One thing’s imperative,
Don’t fight the narrative,
Proving the whole thing’s nothing but theater.
Intellectuals will cut you down to size,
Staring at you with emotionless eyes,
Razor sharp tongue,
Cutting fresh dung,
Because they’re smart but not very wise.
Starting from the outside and working in,
The elite have redefined the nature of sin,
Think as they want,
Constitution to flaunt,
And as the world burns they play the violin.
The deep state will win don’t fret or pout,
Our wise elites have it all worked out,
Count all that are able,
Even from under a table,
No matter if it takes a two hundred percent turnout.
The elite’s excuses are lame,
They’re barbarians not tame,
Constantly braying,
Proving the saying,
The more things change the more they stay the same.
Sincerely,
John Pepin
