All the troubles in the world,
Are my fault and my fault alone.
HERE I STAND THE ACCUSED
Oh dear what can one do,When your considered, The accused.
From looking into mirror,
Not from looking out from the window,
What is oneself expected to do.
Oh dear it seems that I'm racist too,
I guess that's only fine,
If oneself is colour blind.
Isn't black and white colour's two,
I was blamed for the Tories winning,
When they were in power last.
Again for labour too, next time,
Think I'll vote for Nigel Farage.
I wasn't born during world war one,
Or even world war two.
Than again if I was,
That would have been my fault too.
Oh well foll-der-roll,
I think I'll stick to my roll.
And give up listening,
To all I consider as trolls.
I'll carry on regardless,
With writing my rhymes.
Even if someone out there,
Thinks my writing a crime.
I heard it once said to me,
The word's are still in my head.
It's not his fault really, after all,
He is the baby of the family.
It's really sublime,
When your accused of crimes.
That have nothing to do with you,
Then again sometimes, The trolls
Are forced to face the accused.
If you want to have a go at me,
Why don't you go ahead.
After all I'm listening, And
I'm told I have a thick head.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 37 times
Written on 2025-03-27 at 01:55
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