Home Truth

A small man in a big chair

Is a sorry sight indeed, my friend

Not only does he demean the chair

He often comes to a wretched end

As’ll be borne out by the tale so fair

That I’m about to recount

Of a petty guy who’d plot and plan

To overthrow one who was a man

Of stature so much higher than he

A fact you will all no doubt agree

When ends my account

This puny little disgusting bloke

In form tall and stout as an oak

With stupid eyes staring inanely

And to boot grinning profanely

Malice spewing fount

His armoury containing countless

Falsehoods fiction and spiritless

Routines to banish truthful and

Authentic citizens from the land

Trying to surmount

The rising tide of discontentment

Toward his uncouth accoutrement

Carrying tales from one to another

Gossip drivel and senseless chatter

Was his net amount

Courting scheming sabotaging spying

A master at inventing and supplying

Information meant to damage those

He was inept at handling because

Of cowardice paramount

What became of his mountebank, eh?

Time went by he had his way

Backstabbing mates and encouraging

Feckless vagabonds to come traipsing

To his chamber of horrors with epics

All the self-aggrandizing mavericks

Fattened on his count

He gloated and did fortunes amass

So complacent in his house of glass

Little did he see that a house cannot

Be built on sand, he'd clean forgot

To plinth up the mount

Then came  winds of change a sudden

That reminded him of Armageddon

He flayed his arms seeking support

Desperately from hags who’d report

On whom he could count

Then the changing wind became a storm

And all hell broke loose in every form

Our puny man with his big castle in air

Shook like a rag doll in that mighty chair

Alas he couldn’t dismount

His villainy which had only perpetrated

Sought now to redeem him supplicated

For his foolishness that knew no bound

Learned what goes round comes around…