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Contempt
Let us enjoy our poetry
a given in a land that's free.
Though politics may bother some
ignoring it will keep us dumb.
A limerick overshadows time
the pleasantries of clever rhyme.
Free verse is mastered by a few
though much of it resembles pooh.
So many live inside a trance
where words perform their lovely dance.
We must, as poets stay alert
lest they may take our favourite shirt.
Our leaders ought to know the rules
that we are not pathetic fools.
Yet they behave as if exempt
and practice, laughingly, contempt.
poem
by
Herbert Nehrlich
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