A Crying Shame

What a crying shame,

those to blame are winning the game.

Stand up and shout,

come together, and bottle-neck your doubt.

Because if not for revolution,

We would not be able to clear out

Corruption.

Polluting the mind of the feeble,

Like the pope on a steeple.

Don't you know,

we are ruled by charisma?

and silver-tongued devils

who say what they say,

Just to get their way.

Marketing to the masses,

like TV while we sit on our asses.

Don't be fooled by their class,

for it's only a guise.

A ruse to confuse.

And distract from bigger issues.

Such as themselves.

Movers and shakers they pretend to be.

And that appears so,

But what do they move?

And ho do they shake?

The masses and jobless minstrels of our gallery.

Respectively, and no change is made.

Simply a choice of lesser evil.

The bull weevil awaits it's turn to be;

Robin Hood.

Simply robbing the neighbourhood of it's

innocence.

Rise above my children,

knowledge speaks while wisdom

listens.