Vision
Not
twenty-twenty, hindsight’s myopic,
Vision
clouded by misapprehension,
Seeing
things, whatever the intention,
That are
similar to a conjurer’s trick.
Political
sleight of hand deceives the eye,
Bouquets of
promises plucked from thin air,
Only for
each of them to disappear
In a moment.
And today the same sly
Misdirection
is still there to be seen;
How it
fascinates, bamboozling all who
Suspend
their disbelief and continue
Mesmerised
by blue, red, yellow or green,
Dressing up blatant
legerdemain
To dazzle
the spectators once again.
D. A.
No comments:
Post a Comment