Oh the Lowly Cowards

Oh the Lowly Cowards, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Oh the lowly cowards, they hide from view
Twisting arms and scratching with finger nails
Getting their wishes from a very few
Their pleasure is telling lies, spreading tales

The masses turn their heads the other way
With no desire to be disturbed at play
While their eye be closed their rights will decay
Soon it will be too late to have their say

Those who command shall be guided by rules
And their senses be most powerful tools
They should not fear potential ridicules
If they shall bend then they become the fools

If the rules be read in varying way
All that shall remain is for us to pray

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