By Yero
Joni-joni politics is the holy beast
Dressed in empty rhetoric, she boast of fame and name
Her egos and arrogance filled to the brim of the neck bottle
She stationed herself as the societal moral police
Who guards others like the nocturnal old bat of times
But never assess her gauze on reality-check
Her day blindness is a known trait
As she blinks in her scary flapping wings
Back and forward, she hangs on trees
With her ugly butt farting to the skies
Defecating and urinating on her parade’s costume.
Joni-joni politics is that hateful heat wave
She blows east to west with her extreme temperaments
She lures the king makers to keep singing praise
The King makers sang praises of unworthy songs
Noise blown in whistles, flutes, and hollow drums
In pride, Sam, Lalo, and Moo thinks they beat and killed the forest lion
Never a memory of heroes and heroines gone
With its new direction of hate, division, and ‘show’ clubs
Yesterday has been buried depths down with little memories
Now we march on with its offer of a bleak future
Again, our hearts and minds are torn, and we tremble in our fate.