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Air is thin,
as is information.
It rotates, whirls;
litters into storm.
Ruckus curls,
altering it’s form.
Unseen, goes unnoticed.
Unspoken, hurts.
Imagine if, disinformation works!

Vehement, staunch;
A bourgeois is born.
Devoid of a sect,
signs a pact.
Follows one,
remembers none.
Brooding momentary pleasure,
confident of procedure;
he does as said,
putting in trust,
argues invariably,
until his balloon bursts.
Imagine if, disinformation works!

How do you feel about this?

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