In the Forum, I heard yesterday a man who prattled on
And did not seem to realize that better days had gone:
“Oh, Brutus, Brave Brutus, thy blade strike true!
For Freedom, the People, the Republic we knew
Are threatened, imperiled by dire tyranny
At the hands of a man beloved by the many
Fools who shower their blind adulation
For this man in colors of coronation.
With one swift strike, the old order returns
To those who remember the grand days
Of glorious honor which brightly burns
In the hearts of men, the old ways,
Times will be just like the days of yore,
They shall be just as they were before!
Oh, Brutus, Brave Brutus, thy blade strike true!”
I left there, my head shaking, though I felt a sting
That if this man here had his way, it would not change a thing.