Hope

(Original Verse By The Bard of Murdock)

I strode into the public square

To politick the throng.

I hoped to get a hearing there,

But found that I was wrong.

I spoke of freedom to achieve,

By labor well applied.

But multitudes would sooner reave*

Than have the gilt subside.

I spoke to them of wrong and right,

Of evil and of good.

But greed and envy, hate and spite

Were all they understood.

I spoke to them of sacrifice,

Of temperance and restraint.

But welfare was their asking price,

And Marx their patron saint.

Perhaps a generation hence

The spell that Marx has cast,

Will yield to truth and common sense

And virtue’s reign at last.

And thus, returning to the square,

I politick the crowd.

I hope to get a hearing there;

Defeated, but unbowed.

~ § ~

http://www.thebardofmurdock.com/

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* reave - to plunder and despoil