MR TOAD Your creatively constructive noises woke me up, Walking almost side by side, racing up to the fancy of your speech; Hauled back by this horrible hood of a sight, You dramatized the garbage-mans reckless strength. I can now see more clearly the need to be part of your audience, Having wiped the sleep off my eyes, leaving a print on a white handkerchief; I headed for the venue, taking heed to your noble invitation To a Priestly and Kingly rule ... I shared your anointing. Every single word; smooth, soothing and richly they colourfully Painted this auditorium of depressed minds, held by Mammon. Their fear made them blind, deaf and dumb; Not that they couldnt see your lies, nor speak to your SHAME, We all honoured you as king ... even when the mic ignored my lips. My keyboard showered me with much love and I kept it clean. It echoed continually in my mind how on earth, men Their conscience crucify in the quest for Renown ? I pause, for to ask you this question one on one when We will both meet the GARBAGE-MAN and his drama. And again we will look eye-ball to eye-ball, And then you will tell me, WHOS NAME IS GOVERNMENT ! Bless you, Prof.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Feb 2014 08:48:01 +0000
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