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Leaving punch lines overlooked
As clowns parade in harlequin
Cold custard pies now over cooked
Last laughs from played out jesters
Sent home smiles invoking stares
As the mugs sip empty chalices
Heads at risk from baleful glares
Kings consider just rewards
For those whose manners once betrayed
Reflecting on the consequence
As double-dealers leave dismayed
The counting house is overdrawn
From paying off the battled drained
Blades are slicing uncut scripts
Where comic wit once entertained
In the end the pauper made to pay
From last reserves of dirty money
As blackbirds fly to escape the pie
Swarming bees lock down their honey
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