A burglar pulls himself through the window.
He's done the checks, nobody's inside.
He'll get away with this one, for sure.
Such is the way of the tide.
Bankers gather round to plan the next exploit.
A black hole of greed and corruption.
"India!" they cry."Ivory Coast!"
The meeting brimmed with satisfaction.
In a velvet palace on a silk throne,
His Holy Supernatural Excellency sits.
"Off with their limbs, and all that!"
Absolute freedom 'till the end of his wits.
Shuffle, shuffle, push, shove.
The dinner queue does not move swiftly.
Miss Arrogant can part the sea.
To notice, or to leave it be... ?
What in common, these four have?
Not many things, to be fair.
But we're not being fair.
A list of flaws at which I can tear.
Selfish, greedy, a disregard for others!
(Do they even deserve names?)
Arrogant, popular, powerful, evil!
Now we must stop playing games.
If we let this pass, it'll return tomorrow.
In addition, multiplied, exponentially.
The mutated corpse of human nature.
A maelstrom of cheats and victory.
They won't see us coming; so assured they are.
We will rise and declare our intent.
It is the end of the line for you.
This is the winter of our discontent.
© Copyright 2016 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.
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