In lands of politics, both near and far,
Where leaders reign and nations bear the scar,
A hat of power, perched on the heads so high,
They claim to shield us 'neath their watchful eye.

But pants of deceit, tailored to disguise,
Hide truths that cloud our vision from the skies,
As cats and rats, they weave their cunning schemes,
Manipulate the truth with artful dreams.

In the corridors of power, shadows cast askew,
A game they play, a constant deja vu,
With feline grace, they purr in soft delight,
While rats below scuttle in the night.

They spin a tale, a web of woven lies,
Each furtive glance, a calculated prize,
Their governance, a puppetry of art,
Concealing truths that tear nations apart.

In sun-drenched rhetoric, they bask and glow,
But underneath, a darker truth does show,
A hat and pants, they wear the costume well,
Yet in their wake, a bittersweet farewell.

We watch them dance, these leaders on the stage,
As if our trust, they can easily engage,
But as the hat conceals a balding pate,
Their motives too, are not what they narrate.

A cat's illusion, a rat's cunning ploy,
Their machinations, we must not enjoy,
For in the sun's embrace, they're quick to claim,
Yet shadows lurk, revealing all the same.

Oh, government in every region's name,
Your deeds and actions part of this cruel game,
We yearn for truth, a fair and honest guide,
In this satirical world where you reside.

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