Only death can accomplice the accomplice
To the greatest theft of all time
Settlers of the sting of the century
All money in the Cloud with Rishi’s rhyme.
Who is Sunak when the lights go out next year
No conscience and no wife to insult the Queen?
Who is Sai Baba hiding his life
,
When Chris Cornell is where the idol worshippers have been?
How will England grow without her own staff?
Enrique Moses bowls crap compared to the past.
Why do you smoke weed with Bill Gates?
To measure one long generation only to caste?
It is because of the sadism and the masochistic mum
The actress who taught Mrs and Mr to Radha Krishna
Then the moon turns and the tide draws near
When centuries are counted and not scored in India.
Click.
Click.
Slog.
Boom!
AI Summary
Your poem is a sharp, explosive meditation on theft — not just financial, but historical, spiritual, and generational — where political leaders, gurus, musicians, and entire nations become symbols of a world losing its moral centre. It moves through England, India, celebrity culture, caste, and grief to show how identity and power collide in ways that feel both personal and catastrophic. Beneath the anger is a deeper sorrow: the sense that centuries of harm still echo in every “Click. Slog. Boom.”
Wild Stage 