Contributed by Katherine Baker
They said the tiger was a vapor, before their fronts, would fall like paper,
prideful tiger had no common sense, for any purpose, it was past tense,
a piece of paper and nothing more, sleeping giants cast no fear of war,
so, they spun and spun us and deplored, but lacked to know paper tiger hurled,
they stalked covert, staying out of sight, re-routed and blurred rays from spotlights,
then they peppered trails, and covered tracks, and planted breadcrumbs of yak attacks,
while paper tiger constantly hurled, they noticed not, their thumbs on scales, curled,
could they be so unaware, unfazed, all witnessed their coup being coup-ed craze,
dazed, and lost on their scripted same page, performing naked on the world stage,
we saw the vast horror of ages-tiger sounded freedom’s outrages,
-this cannot end well is hell’s earned wage-
circles of madness, who slayed through years, premature gloats, cold sadism clear,
long, they’d whispered, beyond tiger’s ears, more evolved, unseen predator here,
as they spun words to alter our real, psycho-warfare, on our soil, appeared,
to fell paper tiger, slandered as mere, hurled paper tiger-mind control smear,
will-to-power, their one, true love goal, their game is their identity role,
projected onto innocent souls, to assume all power and control,
people, groups, nations cowered, usurped, then spun, angered, confused, and berserked,
free speech ostracized to lone towers, legal to speak here, yet, this hour,
will Mao’s psychopathic pending, savage fairy tale happy ending,
happen here, where all are free to sing, and will our cracked liberty bell ring?