Chock full of gibberish, the Fool rambled on,
no sign of lucidity, his sanity gone.

Claiming the credit, for things he never did,
while still in the basement, conveniently hid.

Still it's amazing, how some fools believe,
the pattern of lies he so boldly weaves.

He will end up a spider, caught in it's own web,
wondering what's happening, as brain functions ebb.

Jill. Please come help me, he feebly shouts,
then, it's help Mr. Wizard, come get me out.

Left twisting and turning, he whimpers and cries,
caught up in a quandary, created by his own lies.

The future is certain, it's not about him,
the left will move on, you were only a whim.
D.L. CROCKETT 11/15/2020