Wicked wrongs and sarcastic songs
Miasma manners and grieving gongs
Won't metamorphose two wrongs into a right
Nor will my impertinence and insolence burnished my blues bright
When rambling rantings on social media
In my mind metamorphose into my wild wikipedia
Regurgitating lances and stances of odious offence
In my arsenal confront creeds of credibility and common sense
At every turn I cultivate an asinine attitude
Blaming buddies and caddies for the low altitude
I ascend when my signature to poppycock I append
Hoping thereby in the sand my head to suspend
Ranting and decanting tosh and hogwash
That repel stakeholders when dirty linen in public I wash
Thereby hoping favours and flavours I win
Shooting myself in the foot when platitudes on lunacy lapels I pin
Playing to a gangrenous gallery
Where sorrows grow into the salary
I earn from the rudeness I disburse
Until hopes and spokes hitch a ride in the cantankerous curse
Where hypocrisy in my Pharisee pot
Steams hot while poppycock in my cot
Runs home to roost
While from broken bridges only sorrows and zeros I boost
Until respect in every aspect for etiquette
I groom far away from the sick cigarette
Smoke which slays vision and natures illusions
I glean from the sordid psychology in which I grow dementia delusions
Which endear my rude manners to no one
Although no fruitful future I've won
Given the learning curve I fail to traverse
As long my blame game conceals the vitriolic verse
In which frailties and foibles flow
As to the lowest intellectual ebb I exhibit a fatal flaw
Boasting and toasting sterilities
That I'd best swap for fruitful fertilities and hopeful humilities
Which if not addressed would delay
Waylay and slay hopes in my every pesky play
Annoying civility sources of assistance
From whom my braggart banners double the distance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem