Poem Body
Junkies on a junket..
Boris n co are on a high,
May will leave in June.
Shooting stars ready to fly,
all is well, in wealth’s cocoon.
Real world what, that’s hell,
buffoon tells his friends.
Cocaine world is really swell,
let’s hope it never ends.
Give some to the poor,
what a waste of junk.
Use the scrapings off the floor
then we'll call it skunk.
Press they rarely question me,
I avoid them like a plague.
I’m a fellow brother see,
who always answers vague.
I want to lead this great nation,
does it matter where I take them.
I will lead them to temptation,
my CV, is a buffoons requiem.
If I make it to the top,
there’s a heck of a job to do.
To guarantee that I’m no flop,
I’ll give all the work to you, and you an you…..
Comments
Not only true
but bloody well written.
Love your work, just sorry I don't respond more often.
Thank you,
Thank you Jess, and no problem. I don't get to respond so much myself. I've been on some mega heavy pain killers, ( not for anything serious joint pain ) and was not the best person to be around. Hopefully getting some light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you again. Regards Roscoe..
hope your joints get better
I know chronic pain.
Sounds very politic...
I feel sorry for you guys, it sounds as if you have your very own Trump! Your scansion is good and the rhyme is great! ~ Gee.
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Thank you Gee,
Thank you Gee, Yes we have now got our very own trump, a monied public school boy known for what some people call exaggeration me I call him a liar. He has no head for detail so struggles when asked about policy, but he surrounds himself with people who are sent out to correct his mistakes. The big difference is he was not voted in by the public, and he has no mandate other than pleasing the unionist and right wing European Research.Group ( grand title but really just anti Europe and anything not of wealth )of his party. Regards Roscoe..