They say that blind men hear the falling snow <br />and smell the pheromones of puberty, <br />there is a wonderful and lasting glow <br />beneath the eyes of those with an infirmity. <br />They say that lies are pleas of last resort, <br />and that a thief will never kill a man, <br />but that no judges who preside in any court <br />would jump at the suggestion of a plan <br />that smells of gold and silver, precious stones, <br />to break the law that they are to uphold. <br />They'd blimk just once, then go and crack some bones, <br />thus every soul endeavours 'to be sold'. <br /> <br />What happened to integrity my friends, <br />and has it now made room for something better? <br />Is it just me who's having trouble with new trends <br />and is it you who follows rules down to the letter? <br />I have the answer, it was plain to see, <br />it was too long ago, some fifty years. <br />A burst balloon, once named humanity, <br />since then all honesty has left our tears. <br /> <br />So, what to do my fellow crooks, you tell <br />are we enjoying our rapid journey. <br />The time will come when you don't feel too well, <br />when shared dishonesty will crowd your gurney. <br />It will be late that day, the sun will urge <br />that we be done away with, so, post-haste, <br />and only prayer may prevent the purge, <br />by hand of bureaucrats with lousy taste. <br /> <br />We have a chance, of course to do our part, <br />the love of money, though, stands in the way. <br />You could hold hands with me, just for a start. <br />God does not mind when twenty fingers pray.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brambles/
