Thy Mother

Forgive This Drivel - Poem by Thy Mother

The consequences
Of a poem
With mixed tenses
Drinking jerobaum
In shady places
With tight-knotted laces;
Ready to run
To avoid the gun
Of the law,
Or a brawl,
With cockroaches
That crawl,
Up the skin
Sharks with fins
Swarn the courts
Judges boast
With their power
In the face of justice
Subtely cower.

A Christian's cry
For security
Thus they pry,
The Muslim Raj
Goes to hajj
Returns full of grudge
Coy superiority
Runs amuck.
They procastinate
Never masterbate,
Believe in fate
With insatiable faith
Love the book
That took
A look
At non-believers
And set out
With meat cleavers
To the houses
Of the louses.
With the moral lost in transition

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 31, 2012

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