‘Tis but the hand
Of skepticism,
Politicos impart
The cryptic seed,
Which germinates
Its sorry feed
That instigates
Such pessimism,
While in the face
Of their betrayal
Cynicism flies,
To force impede
Inertia’s deed,
Chose let slide
Our trust naïve,
Turns to deride
Their legacy,
Now earth’s peril
Would see it turn
To lifeless dust,
Before the end
Of meager ride
Life did provide!
Once in a time
Said polite issue,
Ere may hold
Fitting creature
For politician,
Yet even then
The choice of men
Bared err in sight,
Told shy of brain
We’d but bemoan,
Their lack of train…
Tho ne’er too late
To try again,
For a new breed,
Save present bane
Of banana feeding strain!
There be a time
Man believed,
The Machiavellian
Twisted mind,
Tho by and by
He edified,
His naïve belief
In guileful beings,
Waged employees
Of the electorate,
Known as politicians
Who would so dupe,
A trusting populace…
Thus dictionary tells
Politician be defined,
With a flattering say
Is that of schemer,
Who tries to gain
A sly advantage,
In underhanded way…
Hence fit homology
For false egalitarian,
We credulous spirits
Naïvely trust as true,
Offers that of polluter
As reference relevant,
To expose immorality
Of these odious beings,
I coin a name for thee
Pollutician, ye now be!
Poetry on a canapé 