We landed on the Moon
and found no cheese.

We went several times
and found no cheese.

But we found rocks
and took some home.

They tasted bad
but we took some home.

They called us heroes;
we called for cheese.

They marvelled at the rocks;
we marvelled at the cheese.

Not Again

They keep coming,
these overbearing men,
when we least need them.

In times of anger,
out they crawl:
they seem to conquer all.

A hollowness within,
the emptiness of hate,
becomes the State.

The lesson never learned
of a tale often told
and the miseries of old.