In pitying mirth
find the fables of the rabbles in gabbles
in deranged discontents they babble in torments
squirming in turmoil and jiving in envy
pathos à la pathetic

See absent gumption
wild in pale volitions of limitations
basking in bitter ecstasies of fantasies in lunacies
the dances of the outers in tatters
engrossed in morose

Tell the blind minds
the eyes sees nowt in land or seas
and thumping is merely razzle- dazzle farting
the crude inane gases of the vacuous
demeaned flow of the lowly

In pitying jest we see
haters will hate for its what they do
whence no gifts or talents to grade or loftily parade
those distinguished are not anguished
dregs always sink while cream rises