Oh, the Ingratitude

You starve them and torture and kill them,
With love of true freedom to fill them -
Yet when you're viceroy,
They share not your joy
But whine that the prospect won't thrill them!

You smarm and connive and canoodle,
And leg-hump like any good poodle -
Yet Master is bold
And dares to withhold
Your doggy-bag full of the boodle!

Anthony Fitzgeorge Butcher