For their loss,
moderate indulgers
suffering popular outrage
and lowered perks
from the $5000 chopper,
backstab who gave an over-indulger
the rein to over-indulge,
and whisper, 'He knew she'd be caught
and we'd suffer; but we don't need that many votes;
haven't we got enough from stopping the boats? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Why do we have to pay for their indulgences? Good point.