As we move further away,
From the year two thousand and eight.
As is the custom to celebrate it.
There will be more who will come,
To appreciate the year...
They were shakened awake.
Realizing they were not forced,
To participate...
In satisfying a temporary greed,
Nibbled with a teasing eventually satiated.
And...
Many caught up in the feeding of this feast...
Wished they had more patience and waited!
To examine the crooks who gleefully stuffed them...
With a wonderful presentation of deceit on their plates!
'Hmmm...
Would you pass me more lies, please!
What do you mean 'which ones'?
The best ones,
Of course.
What do you mean...
You've 'run out' of 'those'?
They were delicious!
I demand an explanation.
Immediately! '
How true! This one needs to be posted on Wall Street. Could you please look at my poem 'the daily news' and tell me what you think.
A poem full of satire for new and old dissemblers.........10/10.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A realistic poem, portraying what's in making. It's interesting to see if the present, shaky struckture would be able to sustain itself or crumble like a cardhouse just before our eyes. Good catch, greetings! Regard