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You know the story. A boy keeps crying “Wolf!” to get attention. People run to help. But each time, there’s no wolf. Eventually, when the wolf does show up, no one believes him. That’s when things fall apart. That when chaos descends.
Now picture that boy as the President of the United States.
Instead of wolves, he warns about illegal immigrants and the crimes every one of them perpetrate, he talks about deep state conspiracies, stolen elections, raising and lowering tariffs like a sick game. The threats shift, but the tactic stays the same: sound the alarm, stir up fear, and rally the base. It’s constant, loud, and calculated. This isn’t about politics. It’s about pattern recognition. The false alarms are a tool, not a mistake. They work — for a while. People rally. The base energizes. Media reacts. Attention shifts. And the cycle repeats.
But over time, the cost builds. Trust erodes. Not just in him, but in government institutions. Real problems get drowned out by the incessant useless noise coming from the Whitehouse. People stop listening — even when it matters. When a real crisis hits, people hesitate. They question the facts. They look for the angle. That delay can be dangerous.
The problem isn’t that he lies — lots of politicians bend the truth. The problem is the scale and frequency. It desensitizes you. What would’ve been a scandal ten years ago barely moves the needle now. That’s how credibility dies: not with one big lie, but a thousand small ones. You’re not powerless in this. You can spot the patterns. Ask for evidence. Pause before sharing that headline. Attention is currency. Spend it wisely. Because eventually, the wolf always comes. And if you’ve tuned out by then, it’s too late.
The President Who Cried Wolf
He stood on the steps with a voice like thunder
Raising alarms, tearing truth asunder
"Look!" he cried, "A threat to our land!"
But his hands were empty, no wolf, no plan
The crowd below cheered, eyes full of fire
Stoked by the heat of a made-up empire
Each shout spun stories, sharp and wild
A hoax for the grown, a fear for the child
He cries of fraud, of hordes on the way
Of enemies hiding in broad midday
He cried of plots, of rights being stripped
Each word rehearsed, each lie well-dripped
The people stopped looking around
Ears to the stage, eyes on the sound
They missed the shadow slipping in tight
Wolves with teeth, cloaked in the night
When danger came, real and grim
The people turned again to him
His eyes hollow, the warnings stale
The ship of state bereft of wind and sail
The wolves had come, not how he said
Not in the form that stoked his dread
But truth, long buried, rose with a howl
Too late for the crowd, too fierce to foul
So now you know where stories bend
Ask yourself what truths you defend
A voice cries wolf for selfish fame
Will you listen, or call out its name?
Bio: Brian Sankarsingh is a poetic firebrand, a sharp, thoughtful storyteller who walks the crossroads where Caribbean folklore, social justice, and the human condition collide. He is a truth-seeker who questions political tribes, challenges lazy platitudes, and writes with a deep pulse of empathy, always pushing for nuance whether you're exploring grief, cultural identity, or the monsters that haunt cane fields and hearts alike. He blends advocacy and art seamlessly. He is part historian, part philosopher, part bard, driven by a hunger to illuminate overlooked stories and empower marginalized voices.
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