Monday, August 11, 2025

Smoke in the Capital





In the heart of D.C., the stage is set,
A magician arrives with a bold vignette.
With a flourish of hands and a booming decree,
He conjures up danger that few can see.

“Crime!” he cries, “It’s out of control!”
Though stats say it’s dropped, he plays his role.
With sleight of speech and a fearsome glare,
He summons the Guard from thin, clean air.

The crowd looks on, some clap, some jeer,
As he spins his tale with smoke and mirror.
“Liberation Day!” he proudly proclaims,
While numbers quietly whisper other names.

The trick’s in the timing, the optics, the show,
A spectacle grand, though the facts say no.
For in this act, truth takes a bow,
While illusion rules the stage—for now.

   


Sauce:

No comments:

Post a Comment