more mediocre poetry for your besnickerment

"oilrig millionaire"

Hat boots and chain
Smile suit and gun
Is it a game
Is it for fun
Did you think that we would stand idly by?

Hawk nosed hardline
His mission divine
What have we wrought?
When a leader we sought?
Through the gunsmoke only the hunched silhouettes remain

Tick tock time bomb
Free falling napalm
Stomped out questions and stifled cries
Tearful children and bloodied wives

Only the hollow ringing of the empty shells reside
Where the oilrigged millionaire's grin presides