Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
Nobody should believe you
You’re a world class liar.
You’re going to burn your ****
‘Cause your pants are on fire!
You’ve always been a liar
Even back in your youth.
The only thing you fear is
Having to tell the truth.

If you shake hands with him
Count your fingers right quick
Be sure you still have them all.
Never trust his sneaky tricks.
He can stand right in front of you
And baldfacedly he can lie
While smiling like and angel
And looking you in the eye.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.

He would rob widows and orphans
And claim he was aiding charity
As if he is the only person who
Sees the world with clarity.
He calls it redistribution work
Of the world’s hard-earned wealth.
But he is fooling nobody, really,
Or he wouldn’t need to use stealth.

And when he runs for office, he
Can refine his art of playing *****
By hiding behind closed doors
And stealing from us covertly.
He will join the political machine
That is already firmly in place
And work in his mirror every day
To hone that public smiling face.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.
Brent Kincaid
Written by
Brent Kincaid  Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii
(Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii)   
756
   Belle
Please log in to view and add comments on poems