With egos greater than Sistine Chapel; they saunter With pride as peacocks admiring themselves, Giggling and mingling with those of their feathers As they conspire to steal more dough. Before the masses: their tongue drips silver and gold As they sway crowds with a tissue of lies, With manifestos and bluffing frames: they chant Slogans, sing and dance; just a pure act. More - More and more schemes to loot Society in the inscription of service delivery, Blinding them with leftover scraps and bones Once they have dined at their private tables. In black sophisticated tuxedos they fly-off to their Swiss banks, To overfill accounts with rip off dough Intended to relieve the burden of the less privileged. Oh cry! Oh cry! As they cry a far cry With bare guts - no water nor shelter, For their relievers have evaporated into thin air As they no longer hit the dusty roads. But remember: Over time the reincarnate will ascend in a different uniform. Be wary! my children.
© Thabani Linda Tshabalala
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