Parasites have taken root
like the mistletoe, attaching themselves
uninvited, spreading ever so slowly
living off the life blood
finally condemning their host to death.
Birds innocuously spreading the parasites
no one sees the treachery
instead, reveling in the mistletoe’s beauty
it is absorbed into our culture
for we are blinded by pretty things.
We listen to the spreaders of parasites
the songs they sing sweet to the ear
ambiguous, their songs we do not understand
yet we welcome them into our lives
for their songs make us feel good.
And the politicians gather
singing their songs in unison
the orchestrated show unfolding,
the maestro’s baton mesmerizing us…
the Piper has won.
As we watch promises morph
becoming things unrecognizable
our concerns become side-tracked
with new songs of promise…
but the music is so beautiful.