Category Archives: justice

Dodgy Donald pleads guilty to using his charitable trust for paying a few bills that no poor over-taxed billionaire should be expected to cough up for. The old fraud. Literally.

Give A Little, Gain A Lot.

Donald is a giver, he’s generous to a fault,
He’s worked the land, proved he’s worth his salt,
A poor real estate man, the scu-salt of the earth,
A man who shows us today, again, his true worth.

The Court has found, much to Dons disgust
He’s guilty of reaching into his sacred Trust,
Oh, its been a far too easy mistake to make
For a man who only seeks an even (tax) break.

The cruel verdict strikes deeply into Dons bleeding heart,
No book deals today for the dealer of his deep dark art,
Tomorrow he will add another chapter to his artless tome;
‘On no account leave any trace of charity beginning at home.’

Jeffrey Epstein won’t have his day in court. His day is done. How to deal and understand with his tragic passing?

Perverting Justice.

They hauled poor cold Epstein from his cell,
Somehow Jeff had expired there- oh well,
The upside- he’s not looking at more jail,
The downside- he’s looking dead as a doornail.

No watching while his whopping legal bill enlarges
As his wily lawyers fight his childish charges,
No more paying for a ‘get out of jail’ card,’
Now his long-term future’s in the boneyard.

No more wondering throughout the trial
If he’ll be found a two-time paedophile,
Now he has no reason to wonder-
The reason being, he’s six feet under.

He might have been an amoral beast
But all that’s ceased since he’s… deceased,
Some cry blue murder, some say suicide
But all agree he wound up dead inside.

Cardinal Pell, off to jail, found guilty of abusing two young innocents. Still, he has a few (redundant) conservatively minded men who still support him.

Beyond Belief.

George Pell is due to serve six long years,
George has had quite the fall from grace,
He prays his appeal will reach Gods ears
And deliver him from this cold dark place.

But some do still believe the old Vatican envoy,
John Howard believes whatever George says,
Tony Abbott believes he’s innocent as a choirboy;
George believes… that’s an unfortunate phrase.

Off to his reward Cardinal Pell disgracefully goes, his pleas of innocence falling on deaf ears. Well, maybe his God may help him. Given considerable time.

Bad Faith.

Sorrowfully sitting in his cell
Is new inmate ex-Cardinal Pell,
Publicly his innocence he still professes,
Though to his God he quietly confesses,
‘Lord, it was only the occasional lap lapse;
Lord, hoping for celibacy is all well and good
But there’s little or nun of that in the priesthood.’

But from above, if He heard
There’s not been one little word,
He would have thought one-
The Father or His blessed son-
Or that ethereal wraith-
Would speak to a man of faith,
But yet, not one uplifting sound;
How loud Gods silence doth resound.

Now that Mr Pell has been solitarily confined
He has time to, unmolested, scour his mind,
One day is an eternity in this Hellish place,
Though being banged up in solitary is his saving grace,
George has gone from shooting the papal bull
To hearing a cardinals word is not indisputable,
And what he saw as an innocent Church affair
Is turning into his worst unfrocking nightmare.

In this world of injustice, have faith, truth and justice sometimes shine out. And just as my belief was lapsing… Oh, too late.

Crying In The Chapel.

The hard harsh word came from on high, from the Pope,
Gods good servant McCarrick had lost his last hope,
The Pope didn’t hear his prayers or poor innocent pleas;
That pained him more than his poor old worn out knees.

Heaven knows, at 88 Theodore can ill-afford
To get unforgivably offside with his good Lord.

All those abuses of power, the secrets Ted held within
Now lay uncovered, obvious as Hell and ugly as sin,
The long serving Cardinal faces a humiliating defrocking,
No blessings for Ted in next year’s Vatican Christmas stocking.

At least when he’s loudly complaining in Purgatory
Many many priests will sympathise with his story.

In times of Emergency desperate times require desperate measures, even if it means fiddling for funds for pis- piddling away on a wall.

Insecurities.

Donald is off on his latest low-down undertaking,
He needs money to fix a crisis, of his own making,
The Army of law’n’order fans of his border wall
Will now see Don pillaging Peter to pay Paul.

Building walls up was easy to say in an election run
But getting Mexico to pay is easier said that done,
He keeps calling about the millions of dollars they owe,
Not one ‘Hola’ has he got from the President of Mexico.

It matters not to Don that the funds are misappropriated
Or that real Democracy has been truly desecrated,
What do you expect when the megalomaniac you elect
Injudiciously, sadly, madly must get his vanity project?

Hi ho, hi ho, and back at work I am. The holidays are fading, the new year is really here, and reality bites. (Hi Ho, part three.)

Dogsbody.

It’s back to my dead-end job, back to the hard slog,
And straight back into harness, mush, like a sled dog.

Back under the boss’s beady eye and curled lip,
Shrinking from that tongue that cuts like a whip.

But soon I’ll break and snap back, ’cause, as they say
Even a good dog will have their bloody bad day.