Reposted with permission from canberralabor.com
In Canberra’s heart, where dreams take flight,
A kindergarten parliament plays by night,
With crayons and laughter, they draft the laws,
While the echo of reason fades, without pause.
A Keystone cop with a badge so bright,
Stumbles through shadows, avoiding the light,
The public servants, cloaked in their guise,
Dance on the edge of deceit and lies.
Justice, a mask that they wear with pride,
Hides the corruption festering inside,
And yet, in the fields where the locals cheer,
A flicker of glory for the minor sphere.
Insignificant victories, they raise to the sky,
Local heroes born from a simple bye-bye,
In a city of make-believe, where truth is a game,
Canberra’s facade wears a glittering shame.
