I like to try and imagine the other person’s point of view. This poem hopefully speaks for itself…
They say he talks about the meek;
Well, from what I’ve seen today,
That man has got a bloody cheek!
From the way he put us out,
Him and his gang of country thugs,
He’s nothing but a ruddy lout.
We didn’t have a prayer;
You should have seen the mob
He had assembled there.
I’m absolutely flaming mad,
The authorities’ll have to act,
And bang him up, the lousy cad.
Who the hell does he think he is?
God – he’s got a bigger ego
Than even old Herod Antipas!
Even the Romans don’t prevent us
From making money – Christ,
The man’s non compos mentis.
Years of decent, honest trade,
A wife and kids to feed –
I don’t need his damn tirade.
I’ve suffered quite a heavy loss,
I promise you my friend:
He’ll pay his debt upon the cross.
Come that day I won’t give tuppence;
I’ll make sure to celebrate
His well deserved comeuppance.
This my friend’s no idle boast,
When he hangs upon the tree
I’ll pop the cork and raise the toast.
All because of a bunch of trouncers,
Our temple – the house of God!
Will be patrolled by… bouncers.
This could be the final straw,
The High Priest has had his fill;
He makes a mockery of our Law.
The temple is the ideal site,
Thronging with punters
Through the day and most the night.
A regulated commerce; what’s more
We provide a vital service –
The ultimate convenience store.