
the twilight of the midwits
for the President, on his birthday
communism dies
with shrieks of indignation
from the wardens of the wall,
with absurd allegations
'gainst “oppressors” they made crawl,
with doom prognostications
of “fascism” and its thrall,
with pawns of their creation
champing for the chains they haul.
Golden Ages rise
with shouts of jubilation
as those tyrants face the bar,
with healing restoration
for each inmate's shameful scar,
with just retaliation
'gainst the clique that pushed too far,
with remoralization
to the truth of who we are.
Let fade programmed extinction bursts
and bankrolled days of rage –
this twilight of the midwits...
And let rise the golden age.
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the twilight of the midwits, Copyright © 2025 Papa Possum
The image used to illustrate this rhyme is covered bythe Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license.This license applies only to the image and not to the piece itself.