The die is caste, It’s do or die.
Attack, invade or fold and cry?
Send the hordes across Ukraine
Or sulk with International blame?
The banks are bust, the coffer’s dry,
Friend China’s left him dangling high,
Pro-Russian thugs in full retreat
From Ukraine Army booted feet,
His wagered bet became a farce
When Ukraine howled…”Up your ****
His revolution died it’s death
In white hot hatred’s foetid breath.
Decision time… retreat or strike
Fly in the face of world dislike?
Throw caution to the wind, attack
In the knowledge there’s no going back?
Risk global condemnation’s scowl
Or chose humiliation's howl?
Putin writhes in clefted stick
His destiny in cross or tick.
M.
8 August 2014
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
The die is caste, It’s do or die.
Attack, invade or fold and cry?
Send the hordes across Ukraine
Or sulk with International blame?
The banks are bust, the coffer’s dry,
Friend China’s left him dangling high,
Pro-Russian thugs in full retreat
From Ukraine Army booted feet,
His wagered bet became a farce
When Ukraine howled…”Up your ****
His revolution died it’s death
In white hot hatred’s foetid breath.
Decision time… retreat or strike
Fly in the face of world dislike?
Throw caution to the wind, attack
In the knowledge there’s no going back?
Risk global condemnation’s scowl
Or chose humiliation's howl?
Putin writhes in clefted stick
His destiny in cross or tick.
M.
8 August 2014
Request permission to use this poem