Cable News Clips

There once was a monarch named Chuck
Who said, “Let the law test its luck.
If Andrew’s in doubt,
Let justice sort out—
No titles can shield him from muck.”

Across the wide Atlantic’s expanse,
A different king strutted his stance.
“Innocent! Innocent!” he cried,
Four times in one stride—
If roosters kept count, they’d all dance.

When Europe pulled back velvet rope,
And showed there was room yet for hope,
They asked with a frown,
“Why can’t you clamp down
On power that slips through to cope?”

In Britain the gears seem to grind,
Through privilege tightly entwined.
A prince can be booked,
His honors unhooked—
No special exemptions assigned.

But stateside the picture looks grim,
Where justice appears on a whim.
If friends are too grand,
Or close to the hand,
Accountability’s chances grow slim.

The victims once lifted their plea,
“We spoke to the DOJ—see?
We waited for word,
But nothing we heard—
Just silence where answers should be.”

If rings of exploitation spun wide,
And wealth kept the wolves at their side,
Shouldn’t someone inquire
Who fed that dark fire,
And who let the evidence slide?

So here’s to a law that is blind,
Not swayed by a title or kind.
For crowns or for clans,
For presidents’ plans—
Let justice not lag far behind.