Good Night John Boy
The allusion of truth
Surrounds us each day
It’s buried in the earth
In the heart of the clay
If only we could mold it
Like the a sculptor would do
We could probably make it in the loo
Now I’m not saying it’s all do-do
But if it's wearing a suit
Then I would sue
Cause a white-collar crime
And the truth is not one
They’ll never do time
They’ll never come clean
Their teeth are so white
And squeaky clean
Look to roof or down in the ditch
If you want to hear the truth
Cause we all ***** and *****
And labor on we must
Otherwise we’ll go bust
So forget the truth
And trust in Ruth
Good night John Boy…
Copyright © Stephen Kilmer | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment