Old lions and lionesses
Hungry with desire to turn their curbs into carcasses
Brains filled with abnormalities of no diagnosis
Grooming cubs to become asses
Do we dwell on the antique so we do not become antics?
Tick the right tick or we ‘d be bitten by ticks
Doing right never attracted a stick
Only trouble mongers get pecked by the hen’s beak
Lionesses like furious bitches
Kick their cubs like helpless puppies into ditches
Lions maliciously growl
Stunting their cubs every growth
O! Mr old owl
Who dares to contend for king of the night? Not even a moth
So the poor little thing reclines
We await ‘the old decides’
Young soldiers warm the battalion’s benches
While wonky-wobbly hands fire rifles from trenches
We being future leaders! Whose idea is that, please?
It seems the future will never come
Like 007, tomorrow never comes
We keep watch in this despicable form
In the old lion’s inspired thorns
Sadness french-kisses my lips
I refuse the president’s number to dial
I club self-pity into hade’s pit
I lie in a jacuzzi all soaked up in bile
My ablazed furiousity can’t be quenched by the nile
Save the cub from the old lion’s lie.
