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’Twas the Night Before WWIII
4 min readNov 5, 2023
‘Twas the night before WWIII, with the world on a thread,
Leaders nestled all snug in their five-star beds.
Sanctions and speeches were spun with such flair,
Yet none could hide the stench of despair.
The masses lay restless, in beds fit for naught,
As visions of unrest stirred in the pot.
The corporatocracy snug in their high tower keeps,
Dreaming of markets instead of nightmares in their sleeps.
When out in the world there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my screen to see what was the matter.
To the newsfeed I flew with a skeptical dash,
Clicked open the links and awaited the splash.
