Nearly any paper that you read could be called THE DAILY MALICE.
A quick peek inside, you drink from a poison chalice.
Really happy truthful stories are few and far between,
If it has a happy ending it's unlikely to be seen.
A blazing half inch headline, when dicovered to be wrong,
Becomes a small retraction about three inches long.
If one paper prints a story for a lot of cash,
The others all decry it and call the story trash.
I'd like to give them all up and throw them in the bin
But I'd lose my daily crossword and that would be a sin.
So I skim across the malice about sportsmen who have strayed,
The stories from the palace, the big mistakes they've made.
I go quickly to the crossword, the bit I never miss,
There I wallow for a while and that's my DAILY BLISS.
Jill West.
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