harangue

we listen and we groan as once again
lie's piled on lie until the world of shit
is lied into perfection cheer fake wit
and do not ever think of all the pain
these lies are built on nor of all the gain
the smiling ones would not ever admit
as privately they turn to hawk and spit
and then tell us that it is just the rain
not one of them would hesitate a beat
to save the life of one who was not rich
compassion's just a word without a sense
you have to have a nicely cushioned seat
for other's goods a finely-tailored itch
and at humanity make some pretense