Poetry Time, Part Two

Vicar of Wicker

Thou vicar of wicker,
Tyrant of twigs.
You hasten not to your
Public of pigs.

You stand and gaze mightily.
No virtue you bear.
Your people stand anxiously,
Awaiting their fair share.

Have you no decency in you at all?
Do you eagerly await your downfall?
Give it a try.
Do what you must.
But, look on within
And do what is just.

Look not at the world
From your opaque point of view;
Instead look on them
As if in their shoes.


(This poem can be found at my Helium account.)