Dear Mr. Putin

Some times we must transgress,
To realize what's good,
For Russia's not as tame,
As Mr. Roger's hood.

All things being equal,
There's something just not right,
To waste the gift of food,
For which so many fight.

It's not like we're at war,
And really, we do care,
For your millions of souls,
And the burdens they bear.

The reward for your schemes,
To which your soul's been sold,
On the powerless weak,
A well-established hold.

Misinterpretation,
You'd better get a clue,
Corruption may be your tool,
Your people get the screw.

Do you want your profile,
To be the blame for strife.
You stand in the judgment,
When you run out of life.

No poor baby pity,
You master of deceit,
The heat of the fire,
Makes charcoal of your feet!

Though time grows ever short,
The day is not too late,
In the face of danger,
You still may save your fate.

Applaud those standing firm,
All your aggression bind,
Hold your flaming missiles,
Open your blinded mind.

Be bold, own your mistakes,
Seek those worthy of trust,
Provide for your people,
Before you're Putin dust.

FOLDER

My Poetry  (E) Come as you are. #2034965 by Rhychus