The Boris Who Cried Wolf

Let me diddle a story,
One so unbelievable,
Of the boy who cried wolf,
And lied through his teeth.
The story of a boy,
Who pulled wool,
Over a nations eyes,
To hide his odious lies.
A boy who got caught,
And shouted,
"It's not me jock",
To avoid the stocks.
But it didn't work,
And the nation saw,
Right through the lies,
The boy tried to hide.
And so he said sorry,
For whatever that means,
Thinking it would hide him,
Better than a fridge unit.
But the nation were wiser,
Than some of his colleagues,
And the apology washing,
Wasn't winning sympathies.
I would tell you the end,
Of this sorry old tale,
But the pages are still being written,
And there is still ink in the well.

©The Pesky Poet

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