Saturday, 8 January 2011

I know him well, we grew up together
Humble beginnings, the sprawling squalor
Played together, splashed dirty puddle onto each other
Trekked continents to school, barefoot and tattered khaki pants
High school we parted ways, never saw him till yesterday
He’s paid his way through this won-from-another-day life
Yelling at the top of his people to cynical a people
Promising heaven in hell to the penurious
Taking their morsel, sowing seeds of discord – spontaneity
Poor tax payer pays for his ten-billion-dollar debt
Ninety nine percent bickering rate – kudos Mr. Politician.

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