Oh Corruption, My Dear Poem by Rajaram Ramachandran

To allow inside a poet,
A gate keeper corrupt,
Collected half of what
From the king he got.

With the usual condition,
A poet got his admission,
And in the king's presence,
Did well his performance.

The king was pleased
To give him an award,
But the poet asked
For a peculiar reward.

'Oh Lord, what I want,
Is one hundred in count
Of lashes by your whip,
On my back, above the hip.'

The king gave permission,
And the whipping went on.
The poet stopped at the middle
To reveal his strange riddle.

'My Majesty, with a poor
I've promised to share
One half of your gift,
And it's time now for it.'

The king now understood,
The poet's intention good,
And threw the gateman out,
After inflicting the punishment.

Likewise, which Samaritan
Will hear a common man
And root out this menace
From the earth's surface?

Oh Corruption, my dear,
How long you're here,
On this earth, to endear
Your well wishers cheer.

Your nick names are many,
As under the table money,
Greasing the palm money,
Black or illicit commission money.

The Mount Etna's eruption,
Or any political corruption,
Leave alone any midway option,
Will it end in termination?

There was once a suggestion
To legalize the listless corruption
Given as a practical solution
To this kind of social pollution.

Men may come, Men may go,
But the corruption will never go,
And remain here for ever,
Thus a taker exists to please a giver.