Nothing brings out the cynic,
Quite like an election.
Boths sides making promises
They have no intention of keeping.
The "issues" take over,
Like kings of old.
Anything of merit is quickly forgotten,
Swept into the "memory hole".
People, like sheep, follow their bucolic
To the ends of the Earth.
All the while; screaming,
At the top of their lungs,
About reforms they'll never see.
Like naive children,
They refuse to admit the faults
Of their elitest demagogue leader.
Feel free to call me
A cynic and a pessimist,
Meet my every word with protest.
Just know that one thing remains true.
As soon as they come to power,
They'll forget about you.
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