Poem for the Liberation of the Innocent

People lie to me and I believe them
Hardscrabble potluck hens they feed me
I tell you this so that you heed me
Watch out for wrens who peck with tongues out
Enfeebled and unstable
The table turns
Wincing splints of reality
Creative talking
Hemisphere balking
Rise sung up the moon
Waving saber
Verbal staves
Cadaverous maze
Of words that praise
And leave you dead
If you believe
In that particular "trusty" steed
Lopsided thoughts on mead
Screaming across the planet
It's not about you
'We have mouths to feed'
'Our cause is in need'
Drop your crippled paradigms
And take a ride on our float
Decrepit with gloating precedence
This is the kind of power that lasts more than an hour
Yet is not worth..
...the air...
...that it is spit upon.