'' The Sick Politician '' Poem by Bri Mar

Some live to kill,
Others kill to live,
We all have the will,
If we want, to forgive.

Peace is our dream,
Most dream of peace,
Some think they're supreme,
Their aim is to fleece.

Stand in their way,
In your way they'll stand,
You do not have a say,
Their way is demand.

It's you they will rule,
There'll be no rule by you,
They see you as a fool,
What they say is true.

They take without giving,
No giving just take,
They are so unforgiving,
It's you they'll forsake.

Whenever trouble arises,
They arise from the trouble,
There'll be no surprises,
As we're left in the rubble.

Of truth, they no nought,
They no nought of the truth,
The corrupt can be bought,
They are the uncouth.

Our votes mean election.
Their election needs votes,
Manifestos mean correction,
Don't dare repeat quotes.

It's their mission to deceive,
They deceive their own mission,
How did we conceive,

‘' The Sick Politician ‘'