by Nick Gisburne
Your long-term, lifetime membership to hope
Is cancelled, voided - now, at once, today
A special gift, a noose of nylon rope
Will compensate for what we took away
A more aggressive attitude to fate
Replaces unacceptable belief
That destiny, delivered on a plate
May somehow feed you anything but grief
Your government, of course, is here to serve
With mandatory drugs to calm your mood
Transmitters in the skin, and every nerve
Will train your mind to welcome servitude
With hope already banished from the head
Your freedoms, your emotions, all, are dead
