Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Delusions of Grandeur

You sit there on your plastic throne.
Talking on the telephone.
Yelling at a diplomat.
Telling him where it’s all at.

Your suffering from delusions of grandeur.
You think all of your policies are grand.
Just remember my friend,
That your nothing but a mortal man.

You promised to reduce spending.
Still you keep right on lending.
I can’t even get a loan,
To keep my family in a home.

You gather with the heads of state,
Deciding the world’s fate.
Meeting with a terrorist group,
You invite them home for soup.

Touring in a foreign land,
Making a few one night stands.
Dodging bombs from the Middle East,
Still you keep suing for peace.

The country is deteriorating,
While your wife is redecorating.
Your mind is tuning to mold.
As the land is being sold.

Devouring money like a glutton,
With your withered finger on the button,
Ready to blow us all away,
Just waiting for the perfect day.

Just remember as your sitting there,
That could easily be the electric chair.
Driving us all insane.
We could easily end this reign.

© By R. A. Barbere

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