Low Blows From Below Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Below to surface,
Come those evil deeds done doers.
Conciously seeking attention.
Not to get enough of it.
Wanting it known,
Of those low blows and backs stabbed.

-What?
In the most sacred of places,
These creatures from Hell...
Seem to be paroled.
And permanently released.-

Even if this should mean,
Leaving gutters in broad daylight.
Or disguises to removed to prove,
Themselves to be the culprits...
Of choosing to select,
Who to make fools...
With the best performance yet,
Of a rehearse to perfection deception!

And...
With a shown ignorance devoted to stupidity!

"Call me CLEVER.
A genius.
Call me..."

-No need.
You have been identified.-