Politics is a Dirty Game
Upon the stage of power’s dream.
A hopeful face, a tailored suit,
Preparing for the bitter root.
They speak of change, of cleaner ways,
To usher in bright, better days.
They wave the flag and quote the creed,
And plant the brightly painted seed.
But listen close, beyond the sound,
Where truth is lost and faith unbound,
For in this realm of high acclaim,
Politics is a dirty game.
The platforms built on shifting sand,
A promise made throughout the land.
To tax the rich, to feed the poor,
Then close and lock the chamber door.
The manifestos, crisp and new,
Are broken vows, by me and you.
The lobbyist with velvet tread,
Whispers the words that must be said.
The wealthy donor’s silent plea,
A cheque for vast immunity.
The laws are bent, the rules are swayed,
For those whose fortunes are well-made.
The public trust, a fading flame,
Politics is a dirty game.



















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