Opium runs through their bloodstreams,
bringing euphoria and placating them,
distracting them from the hard truths
that would otherwise flood the populace
with blind fear and the need to change
their actions and priorities and society
with a massive grassroots campaign
that would take years and actual effort
to effect it to affect the true problem.
Attention diverted, they dance, and laugh
like carefree children on a merry-go-round
that have no care for the cost of the ride,
even though they can hardly afford the fee
they're amassing by going around so often,
or for the sun as it beats down upon them
like a relentless bobbing sledgehammer,
slowly painting their skin a deep crimson,
exacting its hefty toll despite their ignorance.
They ignore the boy who keeps crying wolf,
not believing it could be bad as he claims
and disregarding anything less than that.
They harangue him in vicious retaliation,
giving him good incentive to just shut up
and stop disturbing their beloved peace.
They make merry and drug themselves,
wilfully ignoring their waning surrounds.
They choose to fiddle while Rome burns.