Trust - A poetic investigation, not hampered by commitee status.Written by Malcolm James Pugh
We are here to listen, To every word you say, We will surely then glisten, What mood is in this way, So many start to chatter, And forward on their views, Little knowing it wont matter, And will never make news.
We are all for truth, For transparancy not lies, So we can face our youth, With honesty in our eyes, So many believe rhetoric, And persuade themselves its true, Little knowing its a set up trick, to delude in all they do.
Its your right to protest, And your heritage to march, Where your complaint will be noticed, And your presence will be large, But no one hears voices, And cameras arent even on, The illusion is there are choices, When in reality there are none.
so listeners are all deaf, Just ignoring as before, They merely invent a virtual threat, And plunge us all into war, No one heeds a countries needs, No one cares what we all feel, Refusing to account for misdeeds, Whilst we are forced to kneel.
For there is another way, onward, They would have us all believe, Much as a glib tongued con would, Seeking purely to deceive, Lo, taxation will never ever change, And great joy will fill land, Though our actions seem a little strange, Its all going just as planned.
Poetry to make you smile at stupidy rampant at present.Written by Malcolm James Pugh
Utopia. My motorway is crumbling, With an enforced fifty limit, and what is even more humbling, Is there are speed traps in it, Still I use extra petrol, Paying more tax as a result, Vainly seeking for a reason, Behind latest congestion fault, Taking solace from my car, As it could have been train, Better to just be delayed, Than never be seen again, And stagger home as ever late, To find a letter in hall, From a burglar who is suing me, Over a dangerous interior wall, That coupled with TVs weight, Caused serious damage to his spine, So he cant get out now to burgle,