Francis Duggan Lust Poems

The lust for power and money to corruption lead
And some cheat and lie to satisfy their greed
And big Corporations do not have a soul
The avarice that afflicts them their thinking control.
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The lust for power is an addiction the Government their own praises do sing
And rubbish their main opposition as to Government they try to cling
The voters bombarded with propaganda right up until election day
The true fact of all politicians is they seldom do mean what they say
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You will find them in big cities and in where few people are
Those born with the lust of wander from their birthplace travel far
To all corners of the Planet from Dunedin to Rome
The World is their oyster and nowhere is their home
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For eleven years Prime Minister of the Nation and yet to power he desperately does cling
The lust for power is an extreme addiction and such addictions are not a good thing
You won't hear many say that he is special and you won't hear many say that he is great
Election day with every hour is nearing and the voting public will decide his fate
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The beauty of Nature for all to enjoy
Yet a beauty some people are happy to destroy
Due to this need that is in us for financial gain
Our craving for material success beyond me to explain.
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In those who desire to become leaders the ego is quite strong
And sad to say there is nothing worse than an ego that's gone wrong
Those who abuse their privilege of power are those with an ego out of control
For there is nothing darker than darkness of the soul
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I could have stayed by those distant mountains where mine was a fairly well known face
And live a quiet life where old friends live far north of here in my Homeplace
But I had the wanderlust in me and the wanderlust took me away
To places far south of the Boggeragh mountains where I live and grow old and gray.
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In life for many every day there's some battle to fight
And many must go to bed hungry at night
That is those who do have a bed to sleep on
And any hope of success that they had from them gone.
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The lust you had for life is ebbing and your better days you know are gone
But knowing you the towel you won't throw in and to life till the end you'll cling on
Those you love now with the departed their souls may be somewhere out there
Beyond all trials and tribulations and beyond all suffering and care.
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The lust of the wander is powerful it grows and it grows every day
It draws people to distant places from their old Hometown far away,
It draws them to the bigger Cities to London, New York, Paris and Rome
To Tokyo, Moscow and Sydney and Melbourne far distant from home.
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The lust of the wander was in me and my thoughts were of a distant shore
And the cold gale rumbled in the woodland and across the bare fields did roar
And the flood was bank high in the streamlet that flowed down land through Claramore
My last memories of the old Country on a day with a forecast high of four.
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