Yea, politics is good
But now it's often abused
by those clueless old dudes
Whose ways are cruel
Cos' the style they choose
and the rule they shrewd
doesn't favour the youth
That's why I choose
to stay my cool
you can call me a fool
or a lifeless dude
I'll just sigh
And afterward... write
about the kinda sheople you are
Just like I am now
about the crazy old clown
who see it fit
to drag me in his filth-filled pit
of political ****
Well then, this is it...
Let me give you a bit...
of my poetic hit.

First; here is my question to you
Who are you?
A branded fool?
A nincompoop?
Or a new-age tool...?
for politicking dudes.

Alright ***
I already got the answer to that
Now, let me ask you this...

Who you be...?
To remotely think
That you can silence me
with your conning tricks

Wielding worthless words
With wrecked worsened world
slewing witty words
Spewing stink-filled spit
That smells like public pit

I don't dine with cocky crew
So, get off my track' ***
I can't deck with you
Cos' I don't roll with people
Who are mentally sheople
And if you refuse to be feeble
You'll get psychologically crippled
Cos where Wordsmith roll
is high like church steeple
far from your scope
and sacred from your evil