Before the House of Lords

Immaculate gaiters, svelte form prepped for genteel debauchery
Throat cleared, quorum present to reproach murderers
Renowned and redoubtable, he dug into his deepest pockets
To empathize with these wild-eyed machine haters
Interferring with the steady flow of industry
Monied but knowing the worth of a dime
And the starving mouths motivating the massacres

Lone but unfazed, he trivialized the phase
That the expensive parts mulching up and down could not suspend
Gordon pled that perhaps they were going a tad too far
The life of a man not worth the life of a machine
Would they exact vengeance upon these irreplaceable specimens
These ad hoc homicidal men destroyed by progress?

Torrents of commiseration rippled through the great hall
But his listeners were the captains of the ship
And these men o’ war could not accept
Masting down the price of doing business
Where Gordon stayed a sobriquet for unfettered beauty
These others sailed upon avaricious waters

While Gordon stirred the few observers
The mongers relented their time to ferment
It went down, deadly and predictable
Leaving Gordon to weep quietly
For the lives lost in the name of melodramatic justice

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