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Not Acording to Plan.

Not According to Plan.


A Poem
Chris Millar


The rights issue is lost on the head in the phone brigade as they just want to get on, and they are missing someone else some place else thank ‘who’ for the phone. It still will not budge, and they are wondering why, could it be that truth now sees through their whole lie. It is not getting back up and doing what the ‘We have you all figured out IT bods’ claim it should be doing. The jag gets the lag from the historic bag, the modus operandi of an old lag. When truth shows up the lie, then the game is a bust, and they have to fold. Cant play the people that are not willing to play, while the lost and deluded are still making their way.

When people start to ask what are they up to from the actions they take, you know that more than just a handful are awake. They cornered the elderly, they segregated the ill, they split families up and claim to have the right to change behaviour and even demand obedience. And they wonder why Britain is the fly in their ointment. To many died in world wars to make sure that shit never takes root here. You cannot reap success when all you sow is fear, you think through the media blaring they really cant know or hear ,the seeds of fear. No frog to boil if the heat is turned off at the source, for not paying the karmic bill just using brute force. Not the brute force of the bull or animal in the wild, just the petty machinations of a wilful child. They up the game when they think the red queen is in sight, never even saw the moment they lost the fight and the right.

Original piece composed on 24/09/2020.