Democracy Is A Lie

A poem about my apathetic passion for politics

Michael Joseph FarrellyMichael Joseph Farrelly
Democracy Is A Lie - a poem by Michael Joseph

Democracy Is A Lie

A poem by Michael Joseph Farrelly

I'm democracy your right to vote
The unwritten future's yours
Your judgement is of great note
Sing loud your suffrage roars

I'm democracy on it I'm sworn
To deliver my word's my bond
My pledge will make you feel reborn
Tick my box with your magic wand

I'm democracy the gritted smile
But they were not supposed to think
The wrong result screamed the cunning guile
A new vote before the eye could blink

I'm democracy your lip served theme
Defending me is cool
Don't question me as I scheme
The media is my tool

I'm democracy this is my day
As the people they just sigh
No, a final vote what you say
They say democracy's a lie

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My Passion For Politics

Can you feel my apathetic passion for politics? The disdain is strong with this one.

I look back at eminent statesmen like Winston Churchill and Franklin D Roosevelt and I wonder what they would make of modern day politics.

Indeed Churchill said in a speech in the house of commons on 11th November 1947; "democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time".

Winston felt the frustration of politics but still recognised democracy is still the best of a bad bunch of choices to govern countries.

I think the biggest problem in the world is the fact that less than 1% of the people now own in excess of 50% of the worlds wealth and politicians world wide are actively aiding and abetting in maintaining this hegemony.

In politics all I see is noise and this noise is what grips peoples focus allowing the custodians of power to carry out all sorts of skulduggery without so much of a whimper from their mostly collusive media.

What I'm trying to say is these mature democracies have evolved into something less descriptive of the words original meaning and whoever you vote for they do not have your best interests at heart, just follow the money and wonder in awe at why we endorse our own complicit subjugation


if time looked in the mirror a poem by Michael Joseph