Saturday, 6 June 2015

The Days of the Whistle Blowers.

Oh how the mighty fall,
few now walk tall,
Some fiddled expenses, some fiddled with girls,
grinning bedecked with bling, gold teeth and pearls.

MPs, Celeb's, Newspaper Hacks.
Once only flashers in gaberdine macs.
Slandering people who won't give a story
making up tales so nasty and gory.

You watch my back I'll watch yours,
Don't let our secret go out these doors.
Aha! there's a mole, he's been underground,
he's now a whistle blower, his scruples are sound.

Another Mole, in velvety suit,
smart, intelligent, astute.
Two whistle blowers who can be believed,
Victims and Constituents are now relieved.

More whistle blowers, they can't be ignored.
whistles are screeching, Oh my Lord.
You shouldn't be crooked, your a Lord of the Realm,
A member of Parliament should be at the helm.

Celebs should be celebrated, not Vile and reviled,
Worse than animals out in the wild.
Free speech when true,
not words that suit only you.

At last they are falling from their high perches,
Hypocrites, Thieve's, perverts;
even in churches.
Scum of the earth they floated on top,
now at the bottom;
and! A top Cop.

Oh how the mighty fall,
 they no longer walk tall.
They  are down and out.
Victims were brave enough to shout.

Some may be dead, some may be old,
Who would have known?
without whistle blowers...
So Bold!

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