Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Dictators
Dictators It's usually a man and always a tartar; the same tired plan, be remembered, a martyr. A power-mad dictator, ruling by fear many imitators, conscience-free, clear. Absolute power handed to him, cometh his hour, deals death on a whim.
Hobbo's Poems 
It’s a hierarchy: Pottaters, then commontators, then dicktaters.
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The pinnacle is hallucinaters!
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Of course! 🤣
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“Absolute power
handed to him,
cometh his hour,
deals death on a whim ”
Says it all really Hobbo! 🤔🤔👍👍👏👏
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Thanks, Ken.
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an unmistakable and devastating portrait of comrade Putrid; may his hour come soon, from within or without —
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Hear blooming hear, and thank you.
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Yes the Reaper takes all.
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And leaves us feeling helpless
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Unfortunately there is nothing in his small death that will compare to the atrocities he has committed. One can only hope that his end comes soon.
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There are so many parallels with Hitler.
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It’s all very upsetting.
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It is. Extremely.
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I second that Misky heartbreaking
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😢
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You forgot to mention small in stature…does seem to be a theme. Full force nozzle of truth this one.
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Yes, they do tend to be on the small side don’t they! Thanks.
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It’s that small dog complex applied to full grown men. 😂
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A lot of bullies at school were little people.😂
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