Who Poisoned Their Cocktails

How can someone,
Having no credible intelligence.
To detect or suspect,
An ignorance of history.
Lacking of common sense.
And nowhere reported is the source,
Of this individual being independently...
A homemade billionaire.
Or close to have such wealth to declare,
Having the capability to fix everything.
Without a single dime to reveal it earned.

Yet...
Brags repeatedly to have wealth.
And status.
Unlike any to have ever seen.
To know this is what sells to the people.
Watching this entertaining thought,
In their homes on TV screens.

Although sold and caring less,
People addicted to fiction...
Their own success.
Allow themselves to have no regrets.
When proof and its evidence reveals,
The overwhelming evidence collected...
Proves they have been tricked and duped.
By a skilled con artist.
Incapable to tell the truth.

But consciously,
This 'master of disguises'.
Is endorsed, supported and followed.
As a choice to be their leader to choose.
Regardless if this 'leader',
Takes them all to the brink of disaster.
Done with a doing.
To hear cheers as they approach,
The edge of a cliff where they would fall.
Then to defend and accept,
What to themselves they are about to do.
Without a safety net.
Or the presence of parachutes.

Only to want to express and have shown,
Their unrelenting devoted loyalty.
To someone well known to be,
A witless misfit they have chosen to pick.
Because of an image,
Fictioned to delude that represents...
How they view themselves benefiting.
When told they should use their arms.
To imagine flying to higher heights.

However...
If some may find,
Themselves falling faster to the ground...
This they can not blame,
On 'The Master of Disguises' they picked.
Since this option they took.
Over a bus to have them crushed.
Where parachutes were packed.
But no one had asked,
If their arms to use to fly to heights.
Whether to be crushed under a bus,
Would diminish their loyalty?
Not to know they would be tricked.
By one who enjoyed,
Every bit of being followed by anyone.
Stupid enough,
To sip on cocktails.
Without it known
The price they had to pay.
To discover who would be entertained,
By it all!

'He used us!'

'No.
He used YOU.
He knew when I was hired.
I admitted to be only qualified,
To remove the garbage from the curb.
So...
Attempting to associate me,
To any crimes allegedly committed.
There is no proof of my involvement.'

'But...
What about the boxes,
Once to see in the bathroom stacked?'

'I don't know about that.
Since I requested my own outhouse.
The one built in the backyard.'

'So,
You know nothing,
About the cocktails being poisoned?'

'Look at me.
Do I appear one to be invited,
To mingle among the elite?'

'But...
How can someone like you.
Appearing to be a garbage man.
Afford to drive an expensive Mercedes?'

'It was a gift.
And I plead the 5th!
I have my dreams to wish too.
I've learned to celebrate,
Both my patience and tolerance!'

'Oh, really?
Then why is the outhouse.
Your outhouse.
Equipped with a golden toilet?'