The cunning old red fox knows his canny game,
Eggs galore until he eventually meets a foul ending.
The conjuror with a make believe world at his feet,
A colourful list of lies and rabbits trailed from his hat.
One day very soon, he’s going to be the starring turn,
Hollywood hopefuls clutter the pavements in hope.
Duckers and divers all lying low in Costa del Silencio,
Tainted lives and remade personas living on favours.
Each drinking from the same cup of borrowed time,
Lounging in suits and awaiting that moment of fear.
Mister Big dispensed all manner of potent potions,
Addicts craved his daily array of poisonous provisions.
One lonely Tuesday evening he believed he could fly,
Crazed and defiant he leapt beyond his comfort zone.
The man who spun believable tales of many riches today,
Entrapping the vulnerable and the frightened with fear.
Today, he treads the pavements searching for crumbs,
Preaching about poverty and expects to find kindness.
Evildoers concoct explosive recipes on kitchen tables,
Then obliterate innocent lives in barbaric acts of terror.
Paramilitaries wielding weapons while breaking free,
Murderers on the run and seemingly beyond recapture.
Safe houses hid them until their cockiness presumed,
Intervening years returned almost all of them to graves.
The Elders teach that we must love and we must forgive,
Yet in circumstances a righteous wrath restores justice.
©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 29/04/2015
Poets United Mid-Week Motif: ‘Poetic Justice.’.