"bribe" poems
I once had a Simple Plan
To bribe a lady for a Kiss
With a Nickleback in my hand
And an Eagle tattoo on my wrist.
I brought her to the Linkin Park
And gave her meatloaf and Bread
But it had Red Hot Chilli Peppers
So she ate the Pearl Jam instead.
My tongue was like a Rolling Stone
As I tell her my Nirvana of love
I made promises with my Pink Floyd finger
As she watched a Led Zepellin flew above.
Her Metallica heart didn’t waste time
And she rejected me within Thirty Seconds to Mars
I treated her like a Queen
But all I got were Iron Maiden scars.
It stung me like the Bee Gees
Or a Scorpion tail’s as fine
The Beatles are all crawling down my skin
When she broke this Heart of mine
Guns N Roses were the choices
That were left for me to Root
But a Cheap Trick with the latter
Ended my romantic Journey afoot.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
191
The Skies can’t keep their secret!
They tell it to the Hills—
The Hills just tell the Orchards—
And they—the Daffodils!
A Bird—by chance—that goes that way—
Soft overhears the whole—
If I should bribe the little Bird—
Who knows but she would tell?
I think I won’t—however—
It’s finer—not to know—
If Summer were an Axiom—
What sorcery had Snow?
So keep your secret—Father!
I would not—if I could,
Know what the Sapphire Fellows, do,
In your new-fashioned world!
9.6k
Law,
All ye termites hacking ants are you without sin?
Twisting the law to your greed thus dethroning justice
Thou that dis-virgins the law to suit your selfish taste,
Did not equity say that none is above the law?
Money-thirsty vultures seeking positions to occupy.
Law hackers depriving justice and equity of her rights
Equity and justice now lives in shame of her virginity,
Almighty termite, do not your deeds speak evil of your sins?
I weep blood for justice and equity whose daughters you *****
Is there none whose conscience still breathe or lives?
Power-driven termites making uncountable promises
Yet accomplishing none but your calculated interests.
Equity,
All ye leaders that preach peace, are you not corrupt minded?
En-slaving accounts meant for public welfare
Yet you claim to have the peoples interest in mind,
Did not the law command you to let equity and justice smile?
Parasitic predators hi-jacking the country's economy
Filthy termites proclaiming injustice upon powerless ants,
Justice hackers, do not your conscience judge your judgments?
I wish that you allow justice and equity have her way.
Law benders at whose feet equity and justice bow
Rippers of the law, at your hands justice is twisted,
Is your nature as humans so inhumane?
Little wonder the earth lives in fear of your tyranny.
Justice,
All ye slanders of the law, why not sheath your swords of corruption?
Your unchecked power has broken the wings of justice
Thereby making equity a widow without a husband,
Remember your oaths to serve with justice and equity;
Did you deceive the ants that voted you in to serve them?
Chameleons occupying seats of filtered ambitions
Woe betide your conscience for refusing to judge you,
Are you not guilty of molesting the law?
I mourn for the shameful death of equity and justice.
You that crafts the law to fit your suit of corruption
Remember a day comes when justice will laugh again,
And you being powerful cannot escape the law of Karma.
Karma,
Murderers of the law, will you also bribe karma?
I doubt if you can buy the law of karma with money.
Thou whose gluttony corrupts justice and equity,
Don't you feel guilty that you disvirgined the law?
Equity and justice now roams about in nakedness,
You that preach the law, are you true to yourself?
Heartless spiders cob-webbing the law to entangle poor ants
Did not equity bid you come to justice with clean hands?
Yet with filthy garments you condemn innocent ants;
Mind you that someday the law will rise again.
All ye scavengers of justice and hackers of the law,
Do you think you can **** the law of Karma?
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
let me begin my salutation to you
by expressing my angst about your ghastly night experience
that you go through when in the hands of the policemen
who often walk around in the name of security patrols
while in truth they bettle terror in the show of evil mighty
they swop you down and arrest you spreadeagled
asking for bribes substantially the money of your proceeds
from the ware of your trade your body the temple of christian God,
Wherever your lack money
your beauty saves you as they go on to **** you in circles among themselves
as they glorify the power of your bossom in their policeman's slang,
where beauty , tyranny of bossom and your bribe is absent
you are forlornly arrested from the streets of Nairobi and Lagos or Johannesburg
then rounded down to a dingy police cell to be charged
with heinous crimes of prostitution and vagrancy,
when the true origin of your fortune's tomfoolery
is powers that be as they glorify anti woman crude cultures
beseeching a girl child into despair and depravement,
they are these men who refused to see you as a beacon of glory
they always link you to the filthy bedrooms from which you ennoble not.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
me? these days?
i have to bribe bonsai tigers
to fall asleep by giving them
excess treats,
drink myself to a limit
and then take insomnia tablets,
glance at the stars
and gag up a bolshevik black hole,
think about russian
newly-wed millionaires
spending so mcuh the taxes go up,
testifying: well when the full circus
with elephants and missing acrobats
comes... and there's no french revolution
versace... we're in bigger crap
we thought we were...
so i took to peddling, keeping heart
rate with feeling rather than
a heart-rate keeper on the wrist known
as apple / iWank...
you'll never believe the amount
of creativity that comes from Onan...
it's like that story of onan and samson
like it's that story of cain and abel...
you'd have to be a mozart to find a creative
continuum in women rather than
beethoven in the hive of being deaf...
say rich and thus say spend...
say poor and thus say like a primate
with two flint stones... what the hell is this?!
japanese crow reduced their beak for
nut crushing purposes into a car tire.
FIRE! FIRE! PROMETHEUS!
so came the world favouring thought
from prometheus' liver
when in diaper-shelter postman pat delivery
by a stork... but each of us that got the slit
of liver never claimed origins in the apple
adam ******* out when eve forgot
that satan's singularity was expressed in
a pluralism: eat this apple, depilate,
and you and adam will be like the gods...
but then the metrosexual emerged
with shaved legs and a shaved chest...
down the drain that dream went:
as long as you eat the apple and know
you have hairy legs... i'm sure whatever you
say he will be ordained with pleasure to perform...
eve - i need a hammer
adam - here babe
eve - i need a nail
adam - here babe
eve - i need five planks of wood, four legs one like an abdomen
adam - here babe
eve - mash it up
adam - hey babe, what's that?
eve - a ****** table, tapestry for porcelain!
adam - woah! that's great!
eve to god - this adam is a ****** robot!
satan to eve - well... get ready for ******
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less—
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon the spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody—
Then—ah, then, I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight—
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define—
Nor Love—although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining—
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
4.3k
Far too many tides have you held him, Calypso, now let him go:
thus commands Athene daughter of Zeus, She who cannot stand his wails
any more. The fleet-footed Hermes delivers the writ of the heavens.
Does the wail of a mere mortal trouble the mighty Athene more than
the heart of her kin? Will you Hermes not accept a bribe and tell Her you
never found me? That Calypso's home is too hard to find on sea?
The will of Zeus cannot be altered, bow or the bolt will make you kneel.
Twenty years has he suffered, let him go this prisoner of his deeds. Eternity
awaits you: while his soul, death. Let him not regret his life in afterlife.
Thus did I leave on high-tide who steal to my own palace like a thief.
Twenty years play in my mind, but the strongest still is Telemachus's smile.
I leave her who cared so much to win my heart yet only the Zephyr -
Brought me cheer, that carried the smell of home and Penelope fair.
Here I leave the immortal who will die for me: for her who I know not if she
loves me yet. Who Athene brings don't fail me in life, even if they falter.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 2:38 PM UTC
Where, oh where has this money been?
It's been up to London to buy me a woman.
When you'd had your pleasure, what else did you there?
Took in a live show, some sights to enjoy.
When you had seen, what did you then?
Went home to the wife, a yarn to spin.
Did you not waste such hard-earned cash?
I need the excitement, the seedy thrill.
Where, oh where has this money been?
Changed hands in a back street for needle and syringe.
What was then done to inject some feeling?
A little ****** just to keep me going.
But what about AIDS and ***
It's one of those things that won't happen to me.
How do you finance such expensive tastes?
Sell stuff to kids at the going rate.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a meal and a little something to drink.
How did you earn this financial gain?
Begged it off some geezer down the Embankment.
Why are you out here sleeping so rough?
It's a long tale of women, gambling and drink.
What of these others with whom you share this door?
Just poor bleeding kids with no ******* jobs.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a contract with a few back handers.
And who did you bribe for their deceit?
Oh, it wasn't bribery, just a little commercial grease.
What will you build to make your mark?
Another block of flats, fully air-conditioned.
On what in the past is your empire built?
Prostitution, gambling, and a few tons of drugs.
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
Even a scrooge,
In his castle keep,
A lone fire burning
While he drifts out to sleep,
Once wondered
In fright,
Amid the sundering night,
If he was worthy
Of either judgement or bribe.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
Lady, weeping at the crossroads
Would you meet your love
In the twilight with his greyhounds,
And the hawk on his glove?
Bribe the birds then on the branches
Bribe them to be dumb,
Stare the hot sun out of heaven
That the night may come.
Starless are the night of travel,
Bleak the winter wind;
Run with terror all before you
And regret behind.
Run until you hear the ocean's
Everlasting cry;
Deep though it may be and bitter
You must drink it dry.
Wear out patience in the lowest
Dungeons of the sea,
Searching through the stranded shipwrecks
For the golden key.
Push on to the world's end, pay the
Dread guard with a kiss;
Cross the rotten bridge that totters
Over the abyss.
There stands the deserted castle
Ready to explore;
Enter, climb the marble staircase
Open the locked door.
Cross the silent ballroom,
Doubt and danger past;
Blow the cobwebs from the mirror
See yourself at last.
Put your hand behind the wainscot,
You have done your part;
Find the penknife there and plunge it
Into your false heart.
2.9k
Inside your little mouth, a crucifix and a hula hoop plant great capers on the short hash marks on your glossy pinkish lips. Like a boardgame I can't win all by myself or a song without a tune, like the melody that chases strangers, or any words that precede goodbye.
The future is coming quickly now, serfs lining up to set fire to their nostrils, take the cue ball and whet their mass wicks for the apostles. Anecdotal anomaly that J-walk over crosswalks whose life then becomes an apostrophe. Morbid fixture on the substrate, creatures limitlessly nodding. A grape-sized egg fills its own unit and erupts to shape the outlet. Your verb-legs may appear demonstratively while you crowd surf, we should play the music louder while we practice all our dance work.
Sunday morning we wake up stiffly, my jowl hurts from mouthing softwords, the nights' adventurous perversity of thwarting dinosaurs with Cobra Starship. Even the back room closet manager gave us enough bleach to see our eyelids, frothy nictitating flitters drop freshly severed lashes that inspire wishes and sultry playlists.
Consecrated mien market of company meals. Underneath the cable cars the dye blunders sores in my eyes. Said I had to go, said I had to die. Said I had an itch but I couldn't get in front of all of this and unwind. Between all of the bees and buttered flies he made it hard for us all to survive, or service this state of our lives. I recall schoolyards where children paid to their dimes for us to see the spaces in the middle of lines, the circles on the circles we liked, stuck in bubble baths with crayon all on their hands. For the price of staying alive I deliver a bribe to sway eyes from the crimes of street dwelling inner-city sinners with stomach contents' upsetted by the rough ********* of heavy petting. She eats red licorice rope with with my fingers rubbing on her tongue. A pedagogy I use to teach, but pretty much no longer have a use.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
Down in the ghetto, real
****** stand together
Me and my 2nd in charge had an
alibi that breezed us on through
Sued the NY Times and their racist news
for they had no clue about us
The judge winked us both off and
later was paid what he was due
Corrupt, corrupt judiciary
The reasons for this are mostly monetary
No questions ... it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout, tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary
I then asked a judge, why doesn’t the NY Times
take a bribe, so they don’t need to report all da crimes
I listened with intrigue and right away I saw the signs
Then my eyes closed tighter, as I hear what he describes
Judiciary started callin’ and Popo’s started fallin’
Shhhush . . . it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary
Well the New York Times is owned by the Irish
and not by a wealthy enclave of Jews
I think I just made my very last mistake
He fired a pistol from under his robe
and shot me to da ground
And I heard him sayin’ “Never **** with da men in da gown”
Corrupt, corrupt judiciary
The reasons for this are mostly monetary
I’d asked to many questions ... it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 7:11 AM UTC
Finding symbolisms
that connect you-
to me
scents and sights
that set my heart free
Baby,
my love is not a bribe,
nor my body or words
or my compassion
or played-out verbs…
What drives this force-
to me, is un-known
and these feelings
have done nothing but grown.
Like a thief in a bank-
my thoughts are more tempestuous
than the Devil driving a tank…
though nothing destroyed
will satiate.
And no words, no gifts,
nothing I can create
will be enough to show
the colors you make me see
-and the melodies in every key
that manifest with-in
every time you are near.
I don’t mean to over do it
or create a sense of fear
nor do I worry
that you may disappear.
circumstances and situations
of many assortments and arrays;
with or without you
will not hinder me
living through the day.
I just simply wish
I could write
the most compelling lines to you,
to move the world-
move the soul
-to make you proud
and feel completely whole.
To bombast all senses,
and knock down fences,
to alert the universe:
that you are in my heart
- to stay.
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 3:33 PM UTC
Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart,
Which of itself complains,
And mourns, with much and frequent smart,
The evil it contains.
There fiery seeds of anger lurk,
Which often hurt my frame;
And wait but for the tempter's work,
To fan them to a flame.
Legality holds out a bribe
To purchase life from Thee;
And Discontent would fain prescribe
How Thou shalt deal with me.
While Unbelief withstands Thy grace,
And puts the mercy by,
Presumption, with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die!"
How eager are my thoughts to roam,
In quest of what they love!
But ah! when duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!
Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by Thy power,
And make me Thy beloved abode,
And let me roam no more.
2.4k
Become medieval when the rain starts –
put coins in my corset, they are pure gold & evil
and show the men using my Thanatos drive:
I could not care if they want me,
I could not care if they hated me alive.
Rather the leaf upon dress-breasts much as
a muzzle, came from a box of cardboard slits
opening like lady-legs. I bribe the thrash with my
whispers & wheels, promise to soak up sky’s tears
but she certainly prefers the black ash haul.
I bring myself to the top of a volcano, its arc,
convinced that it cannot soot me,
not in the rain: such scorch is unreachable.
There is this protruding spiral in the center,
going dark, a pupil. It eats my hair-ribbon and I
sweat, but I am upon all terrains of the Earth
prepared to fall into a clutch, the gold stain my skin
before peeling by storms, how plague-like I seem.
Could be on my back when it implodes –
though my skirt would not appreciate the mess,
I think the idea fine. I am already pink, red’s better.
Wires and flushed cheeks will be what they find,
the men, knowing that I could not care.
And I did not; it was not less than a shot of
lightning stuck under a petticoat, frilled for nobody
but the volcano who turns ********* to embers.
the rain that beasts eyelashes to amputees.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
If I could, I'd buy us enough acid to last everyday
for the rest of our natural born lives. Just hoping
that the trip would take us back to the night when
you painted rainbows on the insides of my eyelids.
If it was possible, I'd brand your fear of needles
onto the surface of all my organs. So that I would
always remember the time you let me see the
scared sick little boy still hiding inside your skin.
So that maybe, he could hide inside my skin too.
If magic were real, I'd use a spell to make a
quilt with our story on it, the way it should have
ended. And every time I felt alone, every time
the panic threatened to close my throat, I would
pull the quilt over my head, and be able to live
in what could have been.
If I could, I would crawl inside one of the
pink and yellow capsules the doctors gave you
and after you swallowed me down I would
climb up through your blood vessels to the brain.
Stopping only to see the heart I love so dearly.
I would build bridges over your broken synaptic cleft
and bribe your brain chemicals to walk the
straight and narrow. I'd tell them how their careless
vagrancy has left your eyes empty and your aura dark.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
What's up with this planet, who's in charge here
Obviously ****** up people whose minds aren't clear
They're clouded with greed
They bribe people who lead
Deaf are their ears when we plead
Get out of our society, just leave
You're not welcome here
You make us hate and live in fear
It's hard to believe people still fall for your games
The world is blindly covered in your chains
We will free ourselves just you watch
We are raising the vibrations another notch
Maybe you should run while you still can
Before everyone finds out your sick twisted plan
Revolution will be lurking around the corner and in the dark
We need to inform everyone and ignite their spark
Our souls know something is horribly wrong
The caged bird sings the prettiest song
Look at the music and what people say
They're fed up with the planet and it's evil way
Life here is horribly unaligned
With Mother Earth and the divine
Don't be distracted just open your eyes
Get in tune with yourself, feel the vibrations rise
You'll change the world if you look within
Knowing thyself is how we win
Don't stop growing, you'll never be done
Love yourself and make your changes fun
See the silver lining, the light, the sun
Look at what's in front of you, don't just run
Feel awareness in every part of your soul
A loving world for all should be your goal
Happiness isn't far out of reach
Ignore false prophets and what they preach
Let your experiences and your higher self teach
Be a sustainer and not just a leach
I promise we can change the world if we try
Listen to what people are saying when they cry
We should come together with love and compassion
Quit self loathing and quit people bashin'
Lend each other our heart and our hand
Quit fighting over oil and this sacred land
The Earth is for all of us to share
To create something beautiful with endless care
It's not all about you, it's all about us
Now come join me on my hippie bus
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us
The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy.
Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay.
Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today!
“Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say.
But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine
Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted
Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated.
Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources
People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable.
Transparency and good governance seems unachievable
Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence
They have violated our minds with their dead conscience.
They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance
We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers
They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura
Honai Baba isu tatambura
Kudya nhoko dzezvironda
Honai Ishe tauyaura
Siyahlupeka!!!!
Huyai mutinunure
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Distort the message
Corrupt the masses
Falsify the knowledge
Blindfold the masses
Broad day sacrilege
Sacrifice those who speak out
To satisfy the deplorable desire
And insatiate the insatiable greed.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
You Leaders we erected you are smart...
Using our money to fund your reelection processes
As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies
All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets
All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts
You leaders we've elected you disgust.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
What are we?
A race in need because of those who lead?
A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed?
We are a unique and immortal breed.
We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
God gives his mercies to be spent;
Your hoard will do your soul no good.
Gold is a blessing only lent,
Repaid by giving others food.
The world's esteem is but a bribe,
To buy their peace you sell your own;
The slave of a vainglorious tribe,
Who hate you while they make you known.
The joy that vain amusements give,
Oh! sad conclusion that it brings!
The honey of a crowded hive,
Defended by a thousand stings.
'Tis thus the world rewards the fools
That live upon her treacherous smiles:
She leads them blindfold by her rules,
And ruins all whom she beguiles.
God knows the thousands who go down
From pleasure into endless woe;
And with a long despairing groan
Blaspheme the Maker as they go.
Oh fearful thought! be timely wise;
Delight but in a Saviour's charms,
And God shall take you to the skies,
Embraced in everlasting arms.
2.1k
If not with those Pennies insure the Prank
And take Profession from his Engineer
Replace his Dowry; His Welcome be Frank
For billowing Youths on his Life-Blown Steer
How unique then, your Generation's greet
Something which the Elders may not hold place
To bribe their Thumbs; Tens-by-Ten-Places meet
And pass his Tickets for your jolly face
But what squabble must this Ritual provide
Save that Ceremony which marks your Friend
To whose Toyish Moments breathe your Confide
By his Years consult your own Testament.
This was your Cue. To come out of your Shell
Free from your Chains; To those Vices be well.
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Well of course, Your Honour, I can explain,
why I urinated on the train.
You see the first toilet appeared to be locked,
and the other one of course was blocked.
Is it wrong? You could dispute,
Do you expect ‘Moi’ to ruin an Armani suit?
Clearly men of our position,
can appreciate my pleas of contrition?
What’s that you say? Inebriated?
A glass or two, it should be stated -
for the record, which should also note,
the tear in the sleeve of my cashmere coat,
caused by the vandals that restrained,
as I was wrongly cuffed and detained.
As a chap of substance before the court,
perhaps my innocence could be bought?
No, no, not a bribe of course,
more a donation of remorse.
It’s not as if the jury gives a ****
they obviously don’t realise who I am.
It is clearly just the wrong decision,
to send a man of breeding to a prison.
A witness says that I was ******
And that I tried to stand up but missed?
What slanderous lies of lesser classes,
perhaps I’d had three or four healthy glasses.
And reports of singing and standing on my seat,
are fabricated, nonsense and incomplete.
Cameras saw me strike the face -
of a man, with my leather briefcase?
Perhaps at this stage I should refrain,
and allow you to address this stain -
on my character which I’m sure you agree,
is beneath the contempt of someone like me.
Surely you can’t have confirmed my guilt?
What about the reputation I’ve built?
Before they take me, please pray tell,
will there be a servant in my cell?
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 9:32 AM UTC
These hands
These arms
Waiting to honestly greet you.
These eyes
This mind
Holds nothing but love for you.
And you never know the depth or the surface of how much love I have for you?
As foolish as I act foolishly.
Somehow you find true ways to forgive me.
This heart
This soul
Has nothing but deep feelings for you.
And you'll never understand the depth or the surface of how much I care for you.
No amount of money.
No materialistic things could bribe me to leave you.
This I got to let you know.
Cause I feel
Yes, I feel, feel, feel , feel.
You won't ever understand the depth or the surface of my love, my love for you.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC