Tin Pot Gods (Poetry)

They are the ones who never listen —
simply turn a stone-deaf ear
while misery sings loud and lonely
the tragedies all washed up here

Those desperate prayers for intervention
filed away where none will see
statistics term it natural wastage
despots rule indifferently

Their negligence a thing of legend —
let rebellions self-destruct —
always keeping a safe distance
for who gives a fiddler’s fuck

It’s much the same the whole world over
the lazy reins of power hang
hooked to a tree now growing stunted
where once hung the better man

These tin pot gods stand barely human
self-designed to nurture greed
refuse to hear the lost child crying
they’ll send no aid to those who bleed