Yellow Journalist Poem by Akhtar Jawad

When I was a child,
I was soft and mild,
My father quoted,
A thinker so learned.
A young man who is an activist,
Wonder if he is not communist!

He wonders once again,
Is someone so insane,
If an old activist,
An he is a communist!
When I grew old, old and aged,
Soviet Union, disintegrated.

Now I wonder, media's sons and the dads,
Promote sensation to have more adds,
What is coming out from the prism,
Uni-color spectrum, yellow journalism.
Bribes as gifts widely accepted,
Truth and honesty completely rejected.

Don't pour water in an acid-jar,
You are on the wrong way and too far.
Acid jumps out, may hurt journalism,
Make a rainbow through your prism,
Colorful spectrum will make you charming,
But at the moment situation is alarming.

They say politicians, wrestlers they look,
Not read yet, and discussing a book.
The anchors adding, fuel to the fire,
Owners of the media pleased to admire.
Honest journals, they need to resist,
And welcome the yellow Journalist!