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A poem a day to the Millennium December 16, 1999
 

Thought Crimes


You frighten me in that strange building.
Accumulating your powers,
ruling my nation,
governing me from such vast distance
You of such weak discipline,
of such little foresight.
Wielding though the power of kings.
Like children in a parched forest
given fire as a gift
by we fools who thought you more competent.
Are we deserving of your rule?
Having accepted our failings,
having given up on ourselves,
should we now be led by the product of our failures,
by you in that capital city?
Would you encourage such laziness?
Would you be so cynical
as to use that decadence
as the cement for your corrupt position?
Better to evolve I think.
Better to stumble through my own blindness,
than be content in your darkness.
- Mad German
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