Oh, no, my angry one.
Don’t look for justice there:
Believe me when I tell you, son,
That justice doesn’t care

Across most time and space
In all the earthish globes:
We find self-satisfaction comes
From wearing certain robes

They sleep a babies sleep,
With calm, untroubled mien:
Within their high-walled castle deep,
Behind the stately screen

While those they should attend
Are vanishing, ignored:
Each faux Platonic guardian
Is feted and adored

So do not waste your tongue;
They see sans cones or rods —
For justice doesn’t care among
Our worthless
Earthly
gods