Most world leaders, I believe, are morally bankrupt,

Waiting for the money volcano to violently erupt.

Feathering their nests and those of their cronies,

Like outlaws in the Wild West, riding in on the back of their ponies.

Lawlessness wrapped in the disguise of the law,

While the ordinary person is crushed to the floor.

 

They talk of justice, but sell it for gold,

Their hands in the till and their hearts are so cold,

Smiles for the cameras, doing deals they don’t share,

Leaving toxicity where there once was  fresh air.

 

Yet history reminds us that their empires will fall,

For greed builds no shelter, there’s no safety at all.

And when the last coin hits the floor of their tomb,

Truth will return to clear away all the sadness and gloom.