Numbers are a funny thing with only ten small digits.
0 up to number 9, attached to little widgets,
Reflecting much but not at all
For though they disappear,
It doesn’t mean an alien
Has suddenly appeared
And grabbed all people by their neck
And whisked them clean away,
I’m sure these lovely people are
Still at work or play.
It reminds me of when bankers said
That money had all gone.
Well, that can’t be true. Who’d burn it
Or why? They’d be stupid or forlorn.
The only answer I can see
For both, if there’s a reason,
Is someone’s hidden sacks and hoards
And plans on open season
For festive days with others’ stuff.
It makes me sick,
I’ve had enough
Of little games that people play
Or programs that
Go weird, astray.
I’m not too fretful of the ‘follows’,
No doubt it will be sorted.
I’m more concerned with politics
And how truth is so aborted.
Jiggling numbers nought to ten
Counting up then down again.
Looking for an honest one
A political superhero
Instead we get a load of rot.
We’re forced back down to zero.
I’ve said it once,
I’ll say it twice.
People don’t just melt
But, lucre? Well that’s different
You get the cards you’re dealt.
How sad to say that fiscal goals
And elaborate accounting
Destroy the truth and hope for some,
Leave honest citizens doubting.
Just to finish, let me say
If I’ve followed you before
And it looks like I’ve abandoned you
I’ll come knocking at your door.
Fickle, not is in my plan
But then that’s only me
I never really learned to count
Much more than up to three.
One for good, two for bad
And three, somewhere between.
All the rest is calculus
Not my forte, you will glean.
Place value I can understand
And find it fascinating,
But lying politicians, bankers,
These I find disgracing.
Just sayin’. 🙂
scottishmomus 