Bullingdon Boys

Hippy, could I say? Or rogue, rascal or roughneck? Who, his and lives of others, does knowingly wreck; These are 'born with a silver spoon in the mouth', sure, In their mind and heart, yet, are these noble and pure...? Though looked respectable, in verity, spoiled brats, They hide from honesty like rats from frenzied cats; Magnificent meals they majestically host, As though accomplishing austere missions they boast...! Wreckage, sabotage, torment, torture, loot and kill, Watching others dying inch by inch - is their thrill; Fighting against the good, is like playing football, Their hearts never melt seeing severest death toll...! As any association that gets started, With principles noble and goodness wholehearted; Bullingdon Boys too had objectives virtuous, Living of which gradually grew arduous...! 17 March 2023 Bullingdon boys Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Joe Maverick