The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Nov 25, 2004
Golden Buddha
Golden Buddha
In a temple of light,
Magic of the moment
After days of plight;
Monks draw
Mandalas on sand,
Freedom of Tibet
Is in their hand;
Children suffer
In freezing cold,
Their sad faces
Are never told;
How much money
Is spent in elections?
Who wins or loses,
Who makes corrections?
The world bank is humble
They offer grants,
The poorest of poor
Are always overrun;
Some stay victim
Others are maniacs,
Life goes on
Drinking cogniacs.
