O say can you see, through the flickering screen,
How the dream turned to debt, and the truth to a meme?
Where once stood the proud, now the docile remain,
With their freedoms on lease and their outrage on-chain.
The rockets still flare, but the cause is unclear,
And the anthem is mouthed, not believed, out of fear —
In the land of the cuck and home of the not-quite-so-brave.
No valor remains in the halls paved with gold,
Just the echo of pledges and narratives sold.
The strong keep their heads down, the loud feign their might,
And the coward is king if he hashtags it right.
The wars rage on screens while the homes rot with mold,
And the children are taught that dissent must be polled —
In the land of the cuck and home of the not-quite-so-brave.
Where justice is blindfolded not for her pride,
But so she won’t see how the rules coincide.
The loudest are lionized, not for their truth,
But for tearing down all that once guided the youth.
And flags become costumes, and faith becomes trend,
And courage is clicking, and virtue’s pretend —
In the land of the cuck and home of the not-quite-so-brave.
