And the Name of the Game is Strawman

Strawman, leaning against the wall,
How easy a target you make.

Strawman, with your coy, tempting eyes,
How you dazzle us.

Strawman, with your trumped-up puffery,
How you entice people to rage.

Strawman, with your complicated allusions,
How you make us miss the truth.

Sitting in a corner, turned in on itself,
In a fetal position, truth whimpers.

Strawman, strawman, your day grows near.
Your glory tarnished, as everyone realizes.

Strawman, strawman, you are nothing more
Than the emperor in new clothes.

1 comment:

kathleen said...

HAHAHAHAHAHA!..These would make interesting lyrics to say the least. But-aside from making me laugh..yes..the truth always eventually comes out. People eventually tire..get bored. It is amazing how arrogance can trump responsibility...Because of the lives that we have-and the people in them...we are in it for the long haul..Others? Not so much...there will always be another flavor of the month..another opportunity to become famous..