THE THING OF IT IS

You must keep your mask on, you sad little people.
You must do as I tell you, you pathetic sheeple.
You must accede to my power, You must believe all my lies.
You must wear your mask, when flying my skies.
You must listen to those, who know better than you.
Get it in your head, we will tell you what’s true.
We control the scientists, we tell them what to say.
We can change the science at our whim, every day.
Science is malleable, The same as your brains.
We can make sure common sense no longer remains.
You will learn what is best is what we decide.
We will subvert your will, and wound your pride.
We want obedient robots, that fall into line.
Who realize quickly, the power is mine.
Cast off your Gods, we want obedient tools.
Disregard what we’re teaching your kids in our schools.
All that we’re doing is the best thing for us.
You are expendible, so do not make a fuss.
You will have nothing, you will give me thanks.
If you step out of line, I will roll out the tanks.
So, put on your masks and don’t scoff at my laws.
Don’t ever complain how they’re crammed down your craws.
My name is Brandon and I would be King.
You are all lowly peasants, who cannot do a thing.
So sit up and shut up, pay attention to me.
You have no idea, how bright my future will be.
D.L. Crockett — 4/21/22