It is a fact that any biz
That is for profit runs the risk
Of failing - that's the way just tiz.
So though it may seem a tsk tsk,
The ones in charge who call the shots
Provide their golden parachutes,
Lined with just in case goodies - lots,
Worthy of executive suits.
Any accountability
For whatever the biz did bad
Is pushed off on the lessers be,
Making the lessers be quite mad.
Fat rats leaving a sinking ship
Grab what they can to make the trip.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem