Politics Poem by Brooke Renwick

His game is his crux.
He started small.
While on his soapbox,
outside of the mall.

The polly then bent over.
He knew it was now or never.
His granny was born in Dover.
His fame would last forever.

Polly wants a cracker?
Two crackers for your vote.
Why not go to war again?
The communists we'll smote!

Has this all now changed,
since the days of the queens and kings?
People, though still estranged,
Has the polly really changed things?

I put it to you, we're up the creek.
Will we float or will we sink?
Are you wild or are you meek?
Death and decay will always stink.