The West Is Red

By Roger Chao

The West is red, the tweets are loud, the slogans reach the sky,
The faithful cheer, their banners wave, the facts just roll on by.
The greatest man to ever live – so modest, kind, and true!
He tells us he alone can fix the mess we never knew.

The news is fake, the climate’s fine, the virus is a hoax,
It’s Fauci’s fault, the doctors lie, don’t listen to those folks.
Inject some bleach, take horse-grade pills, forget the rising dead,
And if a hurricane appears, just draw the map in red.

The enemies are everywhere, but mostly in the press,
They twist his words, they mock his hair, they cause him so much stress.
The real truth shines in cable talk, in channels bought and sold,
Where prophets in their golden suits praise Him in bars of gold.

He stands upon the balcony, the cameras catch his grin,
He sniffs, adjusts, and throws a fist – let patriotism begin!
He knows the poor, he loves the weak, he’s just a simple guy,
Who owns a fleet of private jets and towers scraping high.

The West is red, the hats are bright, the brand is iron-strong,
He sells the flag, He trademarks truth, His justice lasts as long.
He tells them who to love and hate, who stole the vote last night,
Who made the country weak and sad, and why He stands so right.

He builds a wall to keep them out, though none were coming in,
The foreigners will steal our jobs, just like they always been.
And if you see a scientist, be sure to call them out,
They want to ruin all your fun with something called a “drought.”

He loves the law, He loves the courts, just look at all the proof,
The judges that He hand-selects are loyal through and through.
And if the people disagree, the ballots must be rigged,
Democracy is fine and good – but not when votes are big.

The Capitol was peaceful, folks, just tourists on a tour,
They only smashed a windowpane, they only cracked a door.
And if they did a little more, like threaten those inside,
It’s not a crime – it’s self-defence – they had to show their pride!

The generals are traitors now, the FBI’s too woke,
He tells them, “Clean the deep state out,” and laughs as they provoke.
The coup was grand, the plan was clear, just find some votes to steal,
And if that fails, unleash the hordes, let chaos be the deal.

The West is red, the sky is dark, the future dims with blight,
And still, He claims a golden age is shining in His light.
The past is gone, the news replaced, reality is bent,
But facts are weak, and lies are strong when rage is heaven-sent.

His statues rise, His likeness chiselled, glowing, ten feet tall,
His people praise His mighty name in marble-plated halls.
And when the last good man is jailed, and when the courts collapse,
They’ll ask Him how it came to this – He’ll smile, and just clap.

For time is cruel, the past remains, the truth cannot be drowned,
And those who build on lies and hate will one day be unbound.
The tyrants fall, the myths dissolve, the ghosts outlive the dead,
The dawn will rise, the light return, though now, the West is red.

 

Roger Chao is a writer based in the beautiful Dandenong Ranges, where the forest and local community inspire his writings. Passionate about social justice, Roger strives to use his writing to engage audiences to think critically about the role they can play in making a difference.

 

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