The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

At Nelson Mandela's Grave

An Anticipation

We gather at this giant's tomb and bow,
We pygmy middle-managers of doom;
He had his little victories, but now
At last he's gone, and given us some room.

We tarred him with black terroristic crimes
In days gone by, and thankfully remote;
Apartheid too must change to fit the times:
Covert now, but for when it wins a vote.

He thought it self-confining, self-defeating
For people to hold on to hate and blame;
So we will shed a tear and keep on cheating,
And help them kill each other in his name.

Pee Wee Botha

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