Who am I to reap a drop of crops of hope
Where hypocrites and their treats tweet
Valences, sentences of nonsense on a slope
Wherever rudimentary rubrics refuse to quit
Because reality shorn of horns of perfidy
Preached, searched and reached in the name of creeds
Concocted, dissected, diverted and directed in a fit of malady
To feeds and deeds of breeds of weeds and seeds
That plead for genetically generated gymnastics
To practice aerobics at the crack of dawn
Prefer to offer those who suffer dialectics
In which sin is virtue and religion is born
To redeem the cream of mankind
From a kind of blind mind
That fanatics and their plastics find
Explains planes and manes that generics grind.
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