Smoke and Mirrors

Sweet poison floats on morning air,
Candyfloss clouds of comfortable lies
Wrapping minds in cotton wool,
Making monsters look like friends.

The smoke has colors:
Red for rage,
White for fear,
Black for blame -
All mixing in a toxic rainbow
That blinds better than darkness.

They pump it through the screens,
Through speakers and billboards,
Through whispered conversations
And shouted certainties.
Each breath a little more numbing,
Each inhale a little more believing.

See how it curls around reason,
Strangling facts with silken fingers,
Making truth seem relative,
And lies feel like home.
The mirrors multiply reflections
Until we can’t find our real face.

In this fog of fabrication,
Children learn to hate
Before they learn to read,
While parents nod along,
Drugged by daily doses
Of digitized deception.

But wait -
Feel that breeze of doubt?
That small clear current
Of questioning air?
It carries the scent of truth,
Sharp as morning frost.

Some are waking now,
Rubbing smoke-stung eyes,
Reaching through the haze
To touch reality’s rough edges.
They’re learning how to breathe again,
How to see through shifting shapes.

The antidote is simple:
Open windows,
Let in light,
Ask questions,
Demand answers,
Face the naked truth.

For propaganda’s power
Lives in lazy minds,
Dies in daylight,
Dissolves in dialogue,
Drowns in data,
Fades in fact.

So stand in the clean wind,
Let it sweep your lungs clear.
Truth may sting at first,
Like medicine should,
But better sharp clarity
Than sweet delusion.

The smoke is thinning now.
Can you see it too?
The real world waiting,
Patient as dawn,
For us to finally choose:
Clear sight over soothing blindness.