‘Twas the night before voting
And all through the land,
The statists were plotting
To give tyrants a hand.
They picked out their colors
And weapons of war.
All ready for battle
With its glory and gore.
The fight would be bloody,
Of that there’s no doubt.
The spending was crazy—
A record amount!
Opinions were sharpened,
Condemnations unfurled.
“What? You’re not voting?”
“You’re destroying the world!”
The fear and the loathing,
The hatred and rage,
All jockeyed for power,
Sought out center stage.
All in for team red!
Turn out for team blue!
Two dueling factions…
Could no one see through?
One voice among millions.
One who will not relent.
What hope for humanity
Without some dissent?
“You don’t need a master!”
He cried in dismay.
Surveying the rabble,
Both predators and prey.
“I don’t need a master
And it’s equally true
That I haven’t the right
To impose one on you.”
Yet his cries went unheeded,
His warnings unheard.
It was almost as if
He’d spoke not a word.
The mob wasn’t appeased.
The hordes were unmoved.
They’d come for a battle,
Not to be so reproved.
And they’ll all get their stickers.
“I voted” they’ll say.
Relishing their oppression
Like the finest fillet.
Convinced their vote matters,
Assured their voice counts,
They’ll all scurry back home,
Wait for news to announce
Who won, who’s the victor,
Who captured the flag.
Some gleeful and happy.
Some half in the bag.
Believing the battle
Between good and evil
Was won or was lost
In this pointless upheaval.
Yet they’ve been played for fools
Doing what they were bade.
They all played their part
In the statist charade.
