The Leader

Loud and joyous cheers from the TV in expectation
Hoping for their leader to appear
And to see a man of his (semi) high station.
But he is playing a game, he is playing with them
Playing with the country that he cannot throw into mayhem.

But still he tries.

He lies and cheats and pretends to be our country’s lord
Is he working for us, or someone abroad?
And somehow it is all ignored
As he sits on the metaphorical throne
and as he chips away at the country that once was made of stone.

And still he plays.

Is he looking the other way for corporate gain?
Does he help millionaires triumph?
The truth is no longer sane
Thousands are hurt by the utter and all-composing hate.
And he plays with the people whom he made wait.

And still he lies.

I wonder how this could have happened,
As I look at the exuberant crowd on the TV
And his bright red baseball cap and
His frightful grin. But that is not what matters.

It does not matter how the country came to be like this.
It never has, but now he sees the country as his.

The past is in the past.
The present is the present.
The future is vast.
So the only thing to do is to focus on now,
Because the past cannot be changed.
We just have to be careful with what we allow.
But I refuse to believe that he knows best.
Too many blindly followed him for us to jest

And still he plays and plays and plays.

Despite this, one thing is certain
Between the white columns and in the white halls
Many things are hidden behind a curtain.
What he will do with those things, I do not know
But I will not blindly trust as I did long ago.