Anger.
Shout
Shout! Shout! then shout some more,
as men strive to settle score,
two faced Tooly elbows in,
departing from his rubbish bin.
Claiming style, panache and dash,
then churning out ambiguous trash,
arsehole creeping round the flock,
holy spirits his selling stock.
Four thousand years of hope and pray,
murder, mayhem, kill, and slay,
silken dalliance the elders wear,
as choir boys bottoms they lay bare.
Tooly belongs to this two faced lot,
mature minds would have them shot,
Inquisition, burn, and tears,
Millions slaughtered o'er the years.
Believe in god or thou shall die,
he gives the orders from on high,
ask the pope's his reps on earth.
Human psyche arrested at birth. 2003
John ©
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