Mr. Conny

Mr. Conny; holder of PhD in Con Science,
Master’s degree in greed,
Bachelor of Science in No Conscience
Save for yourself the kisses
Kiss of death wrapped in your raps
Bit by bit, it is my lips you bit
From that pulpit, you dug a pit in the pocket of the poor
Tasking all to a tax for the general good
Promising me heaven, securing for yourself a haven
From my sweat is your bowl of sweets
Your tongue is honey
Your efforts, the reflection of a mirage in a mirror
I flushed dreams down the drain
Moulded enemies out of friends
Fed your fat interest
You wore a caring face; knitter of welfare
I sowed my hopes in your words
Dried my tears in your smiles
I know now where your lies lie
Cunning is the colour of your coat