Your humour turns flowers to weeds

that started life as simple seeds

cut down by comment and a jaded tongue

so ugly to see in one so young.

You strip the skin from its living form

whatever you say is never the norm.

but in your search for petty glory

you write the end to a flaying story.

Never submit to an honest wit

Identify the source and spread your shit.

For in your threadbare grasp of life

you reap the harvest with a knife

blunted by a heavy hand that

leads you back from the promised land.

Think not of the feelings of your victims

just press on with your phoney dictums.

Your work with the Metropolitan Police

will enforce a very uneasy peace,

so as you rise towards supremacy

suppression will be your natural legacy.