Dear Stan



Dear Stan,


Do you remember our business plan?

Your dream was to drive an ice-cream van

And I was to make ice-cream and flan

But that was before they sent you to Afghanistan


They said you’d be “the man”

If you fought the crazy Taliban

Brainwashing you with Obama’s “Yes we can”

With promises of heroism by joining their clan

But when you died all you gained was a suntan

And no-one was there to be your fan

You should’ve just ran and ran

Anywhere, like perhaps Taiwan

That would’ve been better for you dear Stan

Than killing Muslim innocents – like an old Gran


You know the élite worship the religion of Pan

They want all the sheeple herded like sardines in a can

Monitored and micro-chipped for a scan

To be ruled by none other than Satan


Goodbye now dear Stan

This was not in our plan

But how were we to know

That the world doesn’t give a damn!


Love from your Nan



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