From December, 2015

Knave

Round now the table were those whom we trust Decide the fate of the knave; we insist they must Lost all he did when the storm came and went Rebuilding on eggshells was his energy misspent Odd it should be that he now stand trial When it was he alone who avoided their guile Streets run full with the sad, cold and hungry A sign on their chests reads “I will work for money” Law backs turned on the crimes of the state Liberate you we will by propagation of hate Scream for yourself, but never for the many Prosper…