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 
If it's truth that makes us free. 

David Martin

 

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