J.R. SIMMONS

PUPPETS

The World's a stage, or so they say.
It's where they act out their little play.
With men in power who run it all,
It's the men with the money
Who make the call.

Global politics is the name of the game.
The costumes may be different,
But the players are the same.

One wears a suit and watches stocks;
The other issues fatwahs while sitting on rocks.

They know their game, and they know it well,
For it's the common man that they buy and sell.
One using religion to encourage the deeds,
For the other it's patriotism and commercial needs.

They train one to fight with an M-16;
Strap a bomb to the other – instant suicide machine.

After it's over, when all is said and done,
Who will count the survivors to see who has won?

And the rich will get richer,
The poor will get poorer.
Then someone will realize
To everyone's horror...

That this game which everybody has played,
Has all been part of a big charade.

And as this sinks in, with the realization
It brings,
People might just look up, and see
The strings...

Etc.

J.R. SIMMONS

PUPPETS

©Copyright 2005 by J.R. Simmons