Feisty young millennials all in a row
Ready to challenge you blow by blow.
They are sophists all and pundits too,
Who can take either side, or leave it,
Love it, or hate it, or beat it 'til it's blue.
It depends upon what the going rate is.
There is no room for right or wrong
It is whatever it is that it needs to be,
I'll give you a clue, it's all about ratings.
Claws that scratch and eyes that flash
One glance could set the other on fire
And talking points increase the ire,
Spoken in haste and driven by greed,
Woe to the truth and woe to the target,
In any case may both be damned.
Winner take all and loser cast blame
After all, you know it's just a game,
From the very depths of Hell's belly.