Note from the knowing

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.