Blue-Blooded.

Enjoy your bear-hide rug of luxury
Dyed red, whereon the wise and wealthy meet.
Look down your nose at those on earthen land;
I hope you know you’re in a cage; they can,
As to that bear when red was singled out,
Pull that rug from beneath your feet.

You wave your banner, plug your mouth with food
And wonder what those flags might hide from you.
Look underneath the rug, between the lines
Of floorboards, of the stripes, of Ross’ twine,
Of interweaving wires inside the microphone,
Of thought that others voice to drown your own.

You’re a stout tool, they’ll make good use of you.
They won’t think twice to wrap you red and white,
And you’ll complete their scheme as you bleed blue.
Nor will I think twice, unwrapping you by night
To toss you like a wrench into the gears
And celebrate the end of all these years
You forgot the blows they sent you from behind.