By Phillip Chidavaenzi
They are nothing
Nothing but fat cats
Too fat to hunt
Too lazy to sweat
Like pompous little gods,
Presiding over their own 'creations'
On the apex of blood-soaked power,
Stolen from the people,
Comfortably they sit
Comfortably they sit
On taxpayers they prey,
The taxpayer whose money,
The stench of blood and power,
Give off strongly,
The impoverished ordinary man,
Whose hard-earned dollar,
Oils their obscene life of luxury.
P. Chidavaenzi, August 21, 2010.
No comments:
Post a Comment