Mister Blair

I can’t hear a single word that you’re saying
Or read the signs they say you’re displaying
And even if you throw me rocks
I’ll remain safe atop my soap box

In fact, from up here you’re really tiny
Though I’ve heard you’ve been getting whiney
I can’t hear your protests or remorse
I’m far away, on my high horse

And I'm way too busy, pressed for time
To talk about some silly war crime

by Lea Simpson

Comments (1)

I like the opening lines - very topical - though you lose me with the last - author's voice intruding :)