That time of time again
When dreams flow out of finger’s veins
Better roads, better jobs, better respect
As simple as press and elect
One asked me to do it for his family’s name
We have been selling dreams for generations, he claimed
Only once every five years, quickly added the sister
I guess this time they will come true Mister.
The last time I took time off work, I said
Now, the General’s insulted and my phone is dead
Don’t get me wrong, I have that dot on my finger
For a couple of days that spot did linger
But listen the dot went down the drain
Like you, and petrol, and the killing trains
My car can’t run on empty fumes
Promises are not what life consumes
Hey! Wait a minute I don’t have a car
Yeah, but the insane Pune buses don’t go very far
The other said do it for the temple
I said my heart is my only temple
And no other words rhymes with temple
Except for Chempel
Which I guess is an English man’s name
Then there was the one with the purse by her side
She said statutes are too beautiful to hide
For centuries we have been looked down upon
I said one less statue may equal hundred well fed moms.
The last was not sure why he wanted my vote
I just want things, he cleared his throat
And then he put a gun to my head
If you vote for anyone else you will be dead
And so as I make my way to the booth
Thinking what possibly rhymes with booth
This is an English poem, and it’s a word not to use
And I guess I rather think of whom to choose
1 comment:
loved it!!!
Post a Comment