Epigraph:
Length of days for the dying,
Blank cheques for pain,
Food for the gluttonous,
No end of rain
For the roofless, the starving,
No sign of cloud
For the blister-lipped farmer,
For the lonely a crowd
Of dreams going begging,
For the tramp, the police,
For the peace-loving, war,
For the war-lovers, peace.
Not blindfold, this justice,
But cross-eyed, in truth,
Which asks (in all fairness)
An eye for a tooth.