He sits you down. At first, he flatters you. "Oh, I had ideals
Like yours once. I hoped that I could save the world," but, then,
It's time to twist your arm. "You know that socialism fails.
It always does, and, as it's failing, it exacts a fearful price.
Millions die or go to prison. Speech and other freedoms are
Extinguished. No one gets to vote, or, if they do, they have
No choice. A system said to be for all in fact becomes an
Oligarchy, concentrating wealth and power in the hands
Of an elite." You look at him, so nicely dressed. You gaze
Around his office with its splendid polished furniture, as
You recall how much owe in college loans, and where you
Live, the dump you're sharing with some friends. You
Think about your lousy job, the protests stopped,
The crowded jails, the millionaires who run for office. Finally,
You look at him. "And aren't things here the same?"