A journo aware, equally at home in Palaces, Halls or the streets Trained to vision duplicity slants and angles and know the crux Able to see the story behind the story behind the story and more In ethics robed proudly while mendacity and shenanigans cry shy Show me the Dai Lama in a ***** den or Bill Gates ******* in Goa
Semi demi illiterates with joined-up thinking or unthinking Immatures lacking emotional intelligence or gainful statures In groupthink mired settles on group delusions in vicissitudes We're programming or flooding seeds of doubts or confusing As if maladroit fantasies are gospels not simpletons' chicanery
Dismissives sad dolts duly outflanked and outclassed inherently Ignoramuses crude and coarse in true form lacking introspection Wear disgrace proudly in persistence and parade idiocy fittingly Strength in numbers neither nullifying stupidity or indignities Indulgent cowards and sick gate-keeps of unearned entitlements
Nonentities, rabble rousers shamed vigilantes in emotional dearth Claiming and luxuriating in the depravities of their deficiencies I remain what I am and no apologies necessary for august status Your diminutive deeds merely reflects your statures and intellects Little minds already condemn you to suicides of real aspirations
She has a kind face and wears glasses with a tortoiseshell coloured rim, And has a tortoiseshell coloured thing on her lip that could really do with a trim, Which, when she is thinking, she flicks with the tip of her tongue, And she says she isn't sixty years old, she says she is sixty years young.
In bed she wears a laced corset of patent red leather, That concertinas the skin on her chest where it presses her ******* together, And though she's three times my age she says it isn't a barrier, And it's not because she is very rich that I say yes when she asks me to marry her.