Miscellaneous:

[blindbee]

A poem describing the tired, cyclical nature of ________cracy.

CADRES OF CORRUPTORS: BLIGHTED BLUES

Our nature is to fly;
we'll try even though
Blue Bloods won't rest until
each cageling is caught.

Yet, 'bourgeoisical'
bull shit flourishes
from masses unveiling
wings for the clipping.

Inspiration flows free;
songs are written, for
cadres of corruptors
seeking followers.

So dads sing for only
those seeking freedom.
The genre: blighted blues;
each song is ageless.

Lyrics’ teachings: they've won;
their schemes seldom sleep;
Tyranny is masked
but not absolute.

Truth remains elusive;
freedom seems real,
while government erodes
blessed intentions.

So the songs are still sung
by fathers to sons.

"Fly son, fly… You must try…
It's too late for me…
Be free; attempt to flee,"
exhausted fathers sing.