OUR BELOVED 'NETAS' *

Like a stack of cards,
they don't mind falling hard.
Before a brief period of shine,
into a long phase of gloom.

Making now a habit,
of going from one to the other orbit.
Foisting on the nation,
lies without any ration.

Looting with a smile,
swindling the poor man all the while.
In a nation of poverty,
they, our symbol of dishonesty.

Day in and day out, swindling,
their every whim and fancy, fulfilling.
The poor citizen left gaping,
while the politician in his merc goes zooming.

Do we deserve this breed,
a shame on every creed.
Principles blown in the wind,
no pricking conscience within.

They do not mind spilling red,
as long as they themselves have not bled.
Holding on to their chair,
whatever the nightmare.

Our dear "neta's" betraying our trust,
letting our brethren grovel and rust.
For the public they have no care,
their love for themselves has no compare.

Even after this loot,
they are willing to lick your boot.
To garner your vote,
so that for a few more years, they can cut your throat.

~Raj S~
 

  * political leader in Hindi, the national language

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