Contempt

Let us enjoy our poetry a given in a land that's free. Though politics may bother some ignoring it will keep us dumb. A limerick overshadows time the pleasantries of clever rhyme. Free verse is mastered by a few though much of it resembles pooh. So many live inside a trance where words perform their lovely dance. We must, as poets stay alert lest they may take our favourite shirt. Our leaders ought to know the rules that we are not pathetic fools. Yet they behave as if exempt and practice, laughingly, contempt.