08 February 2014
# 8 - Winter in Sochi
Behind their backs, I tut at the unjust,
Though I would never say a word aloud.
When you’re a coward, silence is a must.
It pays to learn to melt into the crowd.
My principles are only sand and dust
And I will only say what I’m allowed.
I may regard them all with some distrust
But still, in deference, my head is bowed.
Abuse is not the price we pay for love;
I can't just turn my head and let it be.
That iron fist inside that velvet glove.
I must act now, before they come for me.
Such platitudes! We've heard them all before.
I will not take this bullshit any more.