He wore a paper crown that felt
A little flimsy when it rained
And coloured dye began to stream
Down his face and staining clothes.
He’d hoped to stay as regal as
A swollen river swan with wings spread wide
But lies soon find their curious way
To broiling estuaries on undefended coasts.
That swan is far less powerful
When panic stitches in its pain
And other wildlife shows its cold disdain.
I’m getting a little bit fed up of all the lies that I’m hearing on the news at the moment. Watching men squirm as they try to answer questions on national TV, when they can’t answer them with anything other than a lie, is rather cringeworthy.
I won’t go into specifics but I’m sure everyone is seeing it the world over. Here in the UK, there is a story dominating the headlines that is making my blood boil. It just shows that it’s one rule for the chosen ones and then another rule for the rest of us plebs.
I find that these things normally come back to bite you in the behind if you are taking advantage of your position. Only time will tell how this will all pan out but I think that the paper crowns that those men are wearing are starting to disintegrate. One heavy downpour and they’ll be left with just pulp.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.