I can't do it. leggings

I was at the bus stop;
when the wind rustled
past the edge of the street,
curled around trees
caught in the breeze.
.
Made me aware;
Carried my thoughts -
away on the breeze.
As I heard the voice
of the no talent tosser -
and her parents so bold
with their array of grommits
set behind their ears -
in multiplex gold.
.
They started to scold
in words bad and old.
They started to screeech of death on the streets.
They became the Jehad, the IRA, the enemy
of sense - all for a poem of extortion
blackmail and bdsm.
.
If you don't write it good,
just the way I think I should.
Then we'll set off a bomb.
Kill your cat and dog.
If you have children - you won't have any more.
Such is the wisdom of no talent sore.
.
I can't do it they wail
in accents filthy rich as bad christmas cake,
left out of the tin for two months at least.
.
We'll report on you. We have control.
We know how you think, how you feel
and one day our lovely child will write just like you!
.
She write down your thoughts just as you do.
Wail - Oh I just wrote a lovely one, look at me now!
I'll take it to university. Oh they'll be proud.
It will be such a treat for them, a kid like me - wow!
.
I'm speechless with grief. as I write this
warning of students with grommits who steal
every thought, as they think they ought.
Because without success - they mount up to nought!
In Daddy's big book of profit and loss.
.
So they steal another's success with glee
as did Mom and Pop in the last century.
The Ghouls perpetuate the crimes;
as they move on up to Yuppies.

(c) RJL