My Customers Cut Off Your Blues Poem by John Sensele

In the wake of back stabs
Withdraw the conniving crabs
I meet in your behaviour
If Jesus be the saviour

You claim lives in the temple
I hear you proclaim in the example
Reality seldom sees
In dodgy decrees

Streets register
Once or twice, mister
When bucks disappear
In stories that appear

At convenient junctures
To mend truth punctures
Walls daily hear
When lies and sties draw near

The day I reckon
Ends the of the scorn
I wear in public
Shame adorning my republic

Where sorrow finds a home
For shambolic shame to roam
In spite of the trust in you I repose
When into my hands you coerce a ribald rose

I return into your hands
Together with the blue brands
My market no longer values
So long as they give my customers the blues.