This marvelous poem appeared on PennLive this morning. The editors of Burg Life enjoyed it so much, that we felt an urgent need to save it from the censors at PennLive, and so we are reprinting it here, entirely without permission. Heck, we don’t even know who CityInterest is, but we sure do like the sentiment!
An Ode to an Era
by CityInterest
The years have flown
Though some days yet remain
But the era, my friend,
Of his power now wains
Mr. Reed was an engine
A tinker and a bull
He pushed his away his problems
And talked his way ’round rules
But he could not control his tastes
For power, perks and toys
He could not contain his impulse
To ignore what he called noise.
He climbed up high the ladder
But stayed atop too long
He ignored the folks below him
So now he must be gone.
Mr Reed may have a vision
For a City he remade
But you cannot stay its leader
Once your instincts start to fade.
He had his days of glory
But he brought these current storms
By his destain for average voters
So now we need reform.
As his Buddies lined their pockets
As they backed his every whim
He forestalled a graceful exit
So there’s no more love for him.
Mr. Reed should take a bow
And walk off this small stage
Before he finds himself
The butt of public rage.
He used to watch the public purse
He used to wear a smile
He enjoyed the role of helper
But not for a long, long while.
Instead of straight and candid talk
He now recites attacks
On any rude or brazen soul
Who notes this City lacks
We lack in education
We lack in basic skills
We lack in public servants
Who can exercise free will
We lack in full disclosure
Of where our money went
We lack in civil discourse
Within our small, small tent.
It’s time to end the era
And if need be push aside
A person once admired
For his progressive stride.
We should not wish him ill
Or wish him any harm
But we cannot stand another term
To relocate his youthful charm
Mr. Reed has been a Mayor
And a man who held too long
On to those drunken reins of power
So now lets ring the gong.
Exit, exit, off our stage
Bowing on your way
But go you must and we mean now
Before the voters have their say
The truths about your unchecked power
Beat upon your office door
So barring truth will not preclude
Its entry on the City’s shores.
Exit, exit, our dear sir
Before the days all fade
Leaving you in graceless light
In the bed that you have made.
Goodbye, Sir Steven
Goodbye to you indeed
We hail the final passing
Of the era that was Reed.
That is just brilliant. I am going to post that on my own little blog for all to see.
Thank you for posting that!