deepundergroundpoetry.com
Theatrical Diplomacy
A fool calculates his losses
Then, dead broke, blames his bosses
Saying:
“Look! The cards are weak as hell”
As if the deck isn’t stacked, as well;
“Sign this paper and you’ll be free!
Thy ink or blood—the same to me
The blood of men may stain your soil
But sign this paper, and reap their spoil!”
What the fuck have we become?
What People are we anymore?
A beacon for a dying world—
Or dying to become it’s whore?
Then, dead broke, blames his bosses
Saying:
“Look! The cards are weak as hell”
As if the deck isn’t stacked, as well;
“Sign this paper and you’ll be free!
Thy ink or blood—the same to me
The blood of men may stain your soil
But sign this paper, and reap their spoil!”
What the fuck have we become?
What People are we anymore?
A beacon for a dying world—
Or dying to become it’s whore?
Published 2nd Mar 2025
Author's Note
Inspired by the theatrics of the following day
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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