Verbose and twitty,
This newfie witty,
Wish though that his tongue,
For those without, would speak as strong,
I would not question that his tongue and wit,
A mile of poison arrows spit,
Yet direction takes their aim,
At those that not to blame,
Now you’d think, a man that smart,
Would also have a heart,
Stand up to those that make a living,
In cruel manner unforgiving,
No one questions that they should,
If as Inuit they would,
In fairness only take,
That would their hunger sate,
To defend atrocious acts of murder,
To hunting, is to say it kindly, err,
His tongue in nationalistic fervours heat,
With all the platitudes replete,
Soon though he forgot, and was so proud,
His ladyship from the hip would shout,
But he forgets conveniently
She must of prejudice be free,
Her shoe be on the other foot,
And saying different as she would,
That newfies’ were insane,
That island for themselves to claim,
I mean just for sake of arguments degree,
With her would not agree,
I truly think that’s where they should be,
And leave the rest for you and me,
Not that I don’t love them sweet folk in the east,
But I wish, of fishing make their feast,
Would not defend a practice cruel,
And make all us southerners a fool,
Sad so sad I am, that a man with so much talent,
Such cruelty he would defend,
Instead that acid tongue of his would use,
To stop the slaughter and abuse.©
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Lin
Love,
Eileen
hugs
Gina
What a waste, politicians should be shot at the end of their periods.
Georg