DIRTY
GAME
Like a grassy hill
Covered by the unhealthy elephant grass
So the juggernauts cover the political cross-road
The dirty game,
Game for a class
Class on the march
A march to selfish wealth.
Echoes of death on challenge
Substance is the pressure
Wheels of success is the hungry masses.
Where are the youths of this age?
The votes are mightier than coins
Implement to perform, disenfranchised.
For a pot of porridge.
Promises which trigger hopelessness
Cementing the paves of their propensity
Heavens know the grimace of the hoi polloi
Pains of regret
Groaning in discomfort
Yet, there is no end to the dirty game.
LOST IN BENEFIT
Ah! Hear that river side bird
Miming the song of the Skylark
“Is this the song we sang?”
Pains in happiness
Whirring from the chirping of the bird?
Night of the shining armour
You are dentless
They are soaked with dye
Chockfull of foolery
They are fanciers of stealing
All, show on the chart.
Celebration in theft their joy
Heralding the street in broad daylight!
Gaining some minutes from onlookers
Telling the world their word
Oh! The noisy street
With peril of rings and beeps.
Then the moving wheel screeches
Vanishing at the end of the pinnacle
The end of episode one
Episode two and three … liquidation
There is lost in benefit
General Street Madness
That’s that.
