by Nick Gisburne
Delicious is the politician’s day
Constructing new illusions, better lies
The semblance of concern is only play
Compassion never lived behind his eyes
A drive so clear, so obvious to guess
An avaricious hunger of the heart
The wealthy fill his wallet with success
Their favours always ordered à la carte
His lovers crave the power, not the man
It seeps inside their skin with every touch
He takes whatever benefits he can
No scandal is too sleazy or too much
Distracted, as his ego spreads and swells
The people swallow everything he sells
