The Treaty

In a backroom the deal was cut

And the opposing sides shook hands.

Finally cracked, was this tough nut,

And they settled on the demands.

Hope at last, there was a glimmer,

A fine photo-op with the press;

But already tensions simmer,

Which, I’ll admit, caused some distress.

And as they signed with a gold pen,

Were ancient hatreds put to rest?

These great leaders of lesser men,

Such visionaries, unlike the rest.

Former enemies, now allies,

With co-operation to share;

A solution in compromise,

This new beginning, sitting there.

But tenuous, you could see

And I sensed failure there and then.

I knew this peace would not long be,

When one guy pocketed the pen.