The Guardians

Behold the army marching down the street –

They march in steady rhythm to the beat

Of drums and people cheering. Colored flags

Precede these warriors, proud as autumn stags.

Their leaders, politicians, lead the crowd

With rhythmic chants, a promise they’re endowed

With virtue, knowledge, wisdom – shepherds who

Will lead the people, give them what they’re due.

Police parade along the bulging edge

The crowd creates – a sniper’s on the ledge

To scope the crowd, a crowd who’d praise the man

If they’d known he was there, and praise the plan.

The President steps forth, the crowd goes wild –

Each man and woman feels themselves a child –

“These guardians before you will protect

You all, we members of the few, select.”

The crowd, they swore their love to men who made

Their path through loving power and who’d wade

Through bodies if they had to just to rule –

But votes are a more cost-effective tool.

So long as humans love strong leaders, force

To get their way, and lies they can endorse

Because they tell them to themselves, each hill

Will find a flock to bend to someone’s will.

And they’ll lead the parade, the army aft,

As politicians steer this human raft

Who trust that they’ll get everything they crave

While marching to their lime-lined self-dug grave.