A fly on the wall
I wish I were a fly on the wall,
To hear leaders preach virtue while plotting our fall.
They smile for cameras, righteous and tall,
Yet behind closed doors, chaos, greed, and gall.
If truth had feet, it wouldn’t walk at all;
It would sprint from their meetings down the corridor hall.
Promises stacked like papers no one recalls,
Excuses whispered thin as shadowed walls.
Their honour a theatre, a hollow call,
While the real story hides where no fly can crawl.
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