I hold myself in state perplexed,
Wherefore these so-called friends have flexed
their blind obeisance to a thief
Who gladly lends this nation grief.
Affrightened, shocked, we then did gasp
at tales of nation’s riches grasp’d,
In revelations of ill gain
and debts of billions now retained
at cost of our own public purse
And echoes of our children’s curse.
And herein lies my ill content
My queried mind in bafflement
What makes these fools of certain grief
to take up cudgels for a thief,
To make false claims of justice bent
When Justice was what God had sent?
Perhaps our own minds were athwart
Too bubbled up to see the art?
Or mayhaps those who know facts well
were flummoxed at the blatant spell
T’was cast by Power’s heavy wand
That Great and Good would dumbly stand
aside as thieves ruled in their prime
with robes of gold to hide their grime,
and riches piled for those with might
to plunder all in broad daylight.
And in minority we stand
The few and frazzled of the land
Accused of being “out of touch”
We’re told that politics is such:
That “Bossku”’s cause is of the right,
That white is black and black is white!
Then destined are we for the fall
a nation that would not stand tall
to judge a thief a criminal,
but rather praise a convict’s gall.
