God, the elections.
The empty promises.
It’s an auction – for the gullible.
Who will believe me?
Anyone ?
We’ve seen it all before.
We’ve felt the fiscal screw.
The numbers never add up.
I saw a politician in action.
He was all arms and long boots.
He was at the airport,
looking for a flight and approval.
He found the first.
Everyone ignored him.
Everyone knew him.
It was awful – for his pride.
We read and looked up over pages.
It’s was hurtful, mean.
He stood, and his tan boots pressed into the carpet – blue.
Not even his colour.
Then he got into a line of five and looked ahead.
There was just a plane –
and a resignation to prepare
