Dear Friends,
The elite are the epitome of an oikophobe,
Thinking they’re grand in their hat and robe,
A faction of hate,
Directing fate,
So lets start calling them an Anglophobe.
Some people are incapable of creating,
Instead they set themselves to berating,
A bit of a hunch,
A criminal bunch,
Who take over and destroy by usurping.
There once was an elite corrupt,
Their transition to after abrupt,
A small cabal,
Willing to fall,
And on our blood they supped.
Central planners brought the pain,
But the people there are insane,
Failure and gore,
Do it some more,
So they’ll vote them in again.
Self-loathing elites live by extraction,
Usurping burping and using ___________,
Human pastry with cheese,
Creutzfeldt–Jakob _______,
But have some supernatural ___________.
Sincerely,
John Pepin
