Something Sweet

Your ballots have been drizzled with caramel and rolled in pans of caster sugar. Once baked a top beddings of marshmallow, the children will line up for reward. Each will choke down the confection of slaves. Countless tin trays of candied feared will empty out quicker than they can be replaced. Sons and daughters will decorate their faces with the residue of your powdered selfishness. A withering generation shall stain it's teeth with serfdom. They will not cry out for grain. Neither will they regard any healthy stock. Instead hordes of half alive will gorge themselves upon careless election nights. Mosquitoes will refuse their blood. None will be able to maintain well nourished beauty as they grip clumps of their own hair. Your thin implacable votes shall rupture the bellies of young. With every bite comes a war they don't understand. No sooner do they swallow are they made tribute peoples to sober nations. It is hard prevent the setting of the sun. Will you prop it up with staves? Legislate by candle light. Municipalities will be forced to partner with street lamps. Court verdicts must be read louder than the hooting of night owls. The children may not have dinner lest they spoil their appetites for dessert.