The tale of the credit card thief

is one that is hard to stomach,

not the person who finds themselves unable

to pay back what they have borrowed,

Time has a habit of making martyrs

out the most carefully sewn purses,

for the ones who push their refined snout

into the bin of inequality and declare

with the grace and attitude

that they are not getting their fair

share of the leftovers whilst hoarding

the banquet that would give a King a ruptured heart

and have his over gorged head removed

from his entitled self perceived persona

of the guardian of moral fibre

and yet somehow acting as he is Mosley incarnate…

 

Mosley, the self deluded fool and champion of the insane,

the only difference between you,

the credit card, expense mad, disabled hating parson

whose rhetoric of disguised hate appeals to far too many,

and the man who thought he was King anointed,

leader of ill-informed and jealous cowards, is that

at least he is silent now,

though his empty insanity

resonates through time as the confused swagger

claim they want the past back may capture small minded lives,

I hope and pray that you are not the cause of the new feeling

of disgust and in private, between you and I,

I know you would like us to all find a way to not

be around, to be the empty space in which you can fill,

but what keeps me going,

what keeps me from truly going under

and tasting the release my body craves

is the anger you have installed in me

oh credit card defrauder.

Ian D. Hall 2015