Of Ford's steed from Detroit's heart,
To China's realm, with stumbles smart.
Like to a cask with ale none buy,
Its charge but echoes, all deny.
Alack, the healers' purpose fumbled,
Pills of life, in disarray crumbled.
Just as wine turned to water,
The world's cure is slaughter.
TikTok's traders from orient land,
Vexed in a world not so grand.
Like a priest with no holy ale,
They own, yet they fail.
