A Tale of Two Squitties

I thought I saw a despot,
A shooting at a duck!
I looked again and saw it was,
A golden clusterphuck!
If ignorance enables it,
We'll look a right old schmuck!
The chutzpah of our leadership,
Just how much do they suck?

(and really just how much,
do you give a flying phuck?)

While all across the globe, I know,
Our commerce wrings us out.
A final desperate grab for cash,
With na'er a muffled shout.
Knowing it ain't cricket,
While crying "That's not out!".
They wail, and put the prices up,
While smiling with a pout!

(I'd say that the grim reaper,
will come without a doubt!).

But what's the point of billions,
A sitting in your pocket,
Even with the power of law,
Your choices on the docket.
When finally, you have to see,
There's nothing left to buy.
Will that be when you try again,
To privatise the sky?

(and let it grin, a pleasant sin,
reflected in your eye!)

"Oh jolly good!" said Robbing Hood,
While scooping up the lolly.
He could not see, as looks to me,
The sources of his folly.
Pretending to be handing out,
When really it's a jolly.
But all the while, bit by bit,
It made him melancholy.

(Billionaire philanthropists,
are really off their trolley!)


[Apologies to Lewis Carroll!]