Politicians

Shaking hands with artificial friends.
Making promises they will never keep.
Kissing children, smiling for the lens.
Passion in their words, but talk is cheap.

Repeatedly they titillate our conscience,
While feeding on our blood, our pain, our taxes,
As leeches nesting deep in minds' sub-conscious.
With a wink and nudge, the rigid law relaxes.

Nothing more than dirty whores of influence
And rather skilled at influencing whores.
In public, they lash out at moral pestilence,
Then fornicate behind their office doors.

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