Mea Culpa

Essentially this year
Has proven RIP VAN WINKLES
Were about
The so called Covi 19 bug
Uninvented doubt
Politicians became intriguers
Who craftily imposes
The Cabalistic will of Job
That’s when they came out

Society was locked down
Freedoms were curtailed
The embodiment of politic
Rapidly it failed
They rolled out the scientists
The highbrow brainwashed who
Rattled off the written words
Like all good robots do

Hancock pale face fall guy
A yes man from the tribe
Superficiality
Certainly not a scribe
A typical insubstantial
Vacant and jnane
Delivering the garbled prose
His illogical refrain

Out in the big wide universe
Dark clouds had formed and we
Were certain of the correlation
That now seemed to be
Great waves of paedophillia
Beyond the darkened doors
We need A great Wakening
And global applause

The satanic crowd
In the spotlights
Their identities unknown
To achieve the notoriety
The counter current thrown
Chaotic and the bedlam
Freakishness gone wrong
Infant aberration
Where the infamous belong

It’s uncomfortable to speak of
Things
Of infants in the pot
Those household names
The so called stars
That the public liked a lot
Now caught up in the lust for power
The blood the fat the snot

The swamp was truly filthy
Years of neglect and pain
The children were maltreated
The violent disdain
Influenced so many
And Trump was born to be
The saviour of the people
In what is eternity