The pockets of power – a poem

(This was contributed to a weekly meeting of the “Hinckley Scribblers” writers group, for which the theme on this occasion was “A pocketful of …) 

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Everything you came to love

So freely bought and sold

An easy life, dependent on

A pocketful of gold


A world of privilege and greed

Was yours from earliest youth

You never knew the contents of

A pocketful of truth


You opened wide your gaping maw

From which came – no surprise –

The latest mad extraction from

Your pocketful of lies


You sought to foment seismic change

And make your country great

But deeply thrust your hand inside

A pocketful of hate


What you dislike’s condemned as fake

You guess this makes you strong

But only adds more substance to

Your pocketful of wrong


Your moral baseness further dips

With each offensive tweet

And yet more shame augments what’s in

Your pocket of deceit


All decent folk desire that you

Will not achieve your goals

Each decanted safely in

A pocketful of holes.


What do you think?


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