The News
The keepers of the knowledge gate
Demark the bounds of the debate
And manufacture an illusion
That we’ve reached our own
conclusion.
Certified as safe to know,
What is is
what they say is so,
Thus, they conquer and confuse
And manipulate the news.
Whoever wants to be the keeper
Climbs a slope that’s ever steeper.
He who will not sell his soul
Needn’t bother with the role.
Still, the lines are long enough
Of those who think they have the
stuff
To sell a fable as a fact
And keep their consciences intact.
We see their faces every night
Telling us that black is white.
The paper at the breakfast table
Ought to have a warning label:
“Caution, what you read within
Is doctored with a careful spin.
Lift your eyes and call a halt,
If you lack a grain of salt.”
I don’t know how it got this way.
And it gives me pain to say
We’re not a land of liberty,
It it’s truth that makes us free.
David Martin