The Culture's New Clothes

Carnelian, cardinal, scarlet robes adorned the king that day.
At least that’s what his clever jester got the crowd to say.
His valet proudly helped him into onyx leather boots.
The conspiracy expanded. The world was in cahoots.
For what his tailor made him think and what the queen had said
was that the king‘s new garments just looked thinner in his head.
They reassured the regent; quickly everyone agreed,
that, though they looked invisible, the clothes were real indeed.The king was skeptical first, but then he went along.

How could the serfs and noblemen ever steer him wrong?
They even got the doctor to inform the king his arms
were allergic to his suit jacket’s rainbow woolen yarns.
At first, some of the dressmakers didn’t understand.
The gaslighting was real; the plot had been well-planned.
Ruthless merchants raked in money to add pretend attire.
No one dared to call them out for being dirty liars.
 
Though very odd and puzzling, the townsfolk all bowed down
to this crazy emperor, who barely wore a crown.
Until one day, the jig was up. Not everyone stayed mute.
A young girl screamed as he passed by in his birthday suit.
Her mother gathered courage, shielding uncorrupted eyes.
And from that moment forward, no one dared believe the lies.
The grand conspiracy had spread like measles through the town.
But that was centuries ago; it couldn’t happen now.