I watched the echoes on the screen
Sinclair clones all conjoined
reflecting wisdom of their god
lower case and just as proud
when the lines are rehearsed
spoke by puppets on the screen
yanking strings are finally seen
as convictions disappear.

From on high the script arrives
sent to the drones to be shared
to the masses they betray
for a paycheck every day
talking heads will keep their jobs
spouting copy not their own
fawning toadies paying bills
while the masses are abused.

Some believe the trust persists
even while the lies endure
warfare honed in local news
social conflict for the souls
engraved in stone from above
the home office stating words
‘it’s just a game’ they’ll insist
they’re the winners at long last.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180401.