You sabotage our economy
Even with your mulish act
You made me doleful
And even made poverty my food
.
can one find solace in you?
I doubt
Your grenade is ever ready
To drive people about
.
Your act of contempt towards me
Makes me whimper
Makes me seek solace
In the content of a whisky bottle
.
Your level of lackadaisical is immeasurable
Your subjects are your last priority
You consume our consumable
And even cart away our goodies
.
There is not an atom of remorse in you
Neither do you feel any rue
For us whom you caused sorrow
Watch! There is a tomorrow.