“I am your voice”
he said
on the platform
you built for yourselves
Where he’s wavered
you’ve flourished
While in bed with gas,
he plots chambers of past
No more will you be
No more will you have
No more will you see
Retain your pedestal
before the Mun flexes
and you will keep
and not weep
Hold on and don’t let go
There was one before
who gave you life
One before with just one wife
Careful, now
The Mun stresses strife
though his eloquence enchants the knife
Whereas it is now
and has been
No more
No how
forced compassion for his past sin