I wrote this a while back.
When you were just a little boy Sir
We made us a compact
To stratify by race
And look
And class
We used the Great Society
To befog the reality
And then we renamed charity
As organized community
Our tokenism breathed easy
As we moved outward from the city
Built more prisons
Elected mayors
And patted ourselves on the back
And shook our heads in private
Yes we left the bulk of poverty
Moved on to great careers
You know the drill
And now the chickens barely mumble Sir
Malcolm-like and honestly
And Rome remains unburned Sir
For the nonce
