Politicians - Poem by Albert Ahearn
The only good politician
is a dead one.
They are the root of rebellion
with their fabricating forked tongues;
This should not imply they be killed
Hell no! Karma will tend to that.
As a rule they’re old and grizzled
men -self servers that have grown fat
at the expense of the people;
Parasites pandering their base
rarely the country’s as a whole
beginning at the polling place.
Their souls sworn in smelly restrooms
their shiftiness baptized in piss.
Both [left and right] are lowdown goons
And when they’re gone they’re never missed.
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