Salted Wounds

First world nation that never was.
Pinned itself with the moniker just because.
All the hardware without any tenacity.
New nation repeating old world stupidity.
With no victories of it’s very own.
Trying to rewrite history to maintain it’s self-appointed throne.
Yet progress is like a snail with salt in its wounds.

Third world catastrophe blooms again.
Not convinced this childish behaviour will ever end.
Blurting statements as if doing so makes them true.
Try as might it doesn’t mean you have a clue.
Removing democracies to install dictatorships of your choosing.
Only for them to come back and show you’re losing.
Can you modernise into a cohesive union?

Pushing your fake ethics with mountains of pride.
Learned nothing from histories tumultuous ride.
Empires rise only to eventually fall.
Their days are done but apparently you didn’t get the memo.
For you invoke treaties only to benefit you.
While the narrative is that we needed you too.
Not how history will remember these revisions you spew.

Advocating beliefs you don’t even believe or follow.
More rhetoric spoken that is utterly hollow.
So you can preach to maintain an appearance.
Pledging while showcasing a lack of adherence.
Outdated tenets written don’t mean a damn.
Except when they bolster your antique thinking.
You really to shut up and stop fucking speaking!

You’re the child and prove it every day.
Haven’t a clue which is evident to say.
At least the rest of us admit our histories are vile.
Weren’t you meant to build something less puerile?
Failed categorically to every degree.
Maybe your isolation would be best for everybody.
Cause it feels like we need a decent reprieve from all your noise.