Press Play Above And Follow Along With The The words Below
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Why are more children, more adults today,
Shaking with fear in a world gone astray?
Is “anxiety rising” a natural tide,
Or a mark of control that they cannot hide?
Do labels of illness give “lesser” a name,
A category built for control and for shame?
Are governments pushing our buttons too hard,
Forcing compliance, erasing the scarred?
In thirty years past, the councils have grown,
Enforcers emerging with powers well known.
From traffic to litter, new titles arise,
Each one a warden with watchful eyes.
Daily we walk, yet we’re never alone,
For fines wait in shadows where rules have been sown.
Slip once with your coffee, your child drops a sweet,
The Jackboots are waiting to pounce on the street.
Filmed in the shadows, they skulk for their prey,
Salivating for errors to fine on the day.
If you turn from their judgment, resist or walk on,
They’ll chase you to doorsteps until you’re undone.
Who gave such power to these Little Hitlers?
Not by election, not by the voters.
Uniforms merging with police in disguise,
A trick of the mind, a game for our eyes.
Once trust in the Bobby was part of our land,
Now officers walk with no helping hand.
Respect is dissolving, replaced now with fear,
The lines have been blurred, the purpose unclear.
Subservience taught in the classroom’s domain,
Obedience drilled in the national brain.
With fines, prison cells, and humiliation,
They tighten the chains of a docile nation.
Enforcers are tools of the puppeteers’ scheme,
To fracture our trust and dismantle the dream.
Hate for the police then grows by design,
The Perfect Storm rising, all planned, all aligned.
Martial Law waiting, the uniforms near,
The PACE card of power enforcing our fear.
Homes open for entry, objections erased,
Consequences delivered, dissenters displaced.
And TV distracts with its glossy charades,
Police chasing joy-riders in loud cavalcades.
A circus of waste, a spectacle staged,
To brand them as fools while the system’s engaged.
Do you see now the path where this story will go?
A world under watch, where freedom runs slow.
For the price of compliance is liberty’s fall—
And you, Friend – Are under the Eye – After all.
Catch Ya Later ………..
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