You're a puppeteer of the worst kind
With inadvertent spies and candid lies
Pulling the strings of hearts and minds
Making them do without answering why.
But then again,
No answer is needed
When those who would ask
Are already defeated,
No questions queried
For they do not know
There is more to life
Than what they've been shown.
The worst part is
I've tried to tell
Everyone else
Of your little hell
But they'd rather believe
What they wish they would see
So they choose all your lies
And I let them believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem