Of hate, I write; and hatred I mean
All that I am, has already been seen
And I'm a fake, they go on and say
shadier than shadiest shade of grey
My ideas, a work of multitude
Oh, this dementia of rectitude..
No, I won't follow the damn meter
Neither do I care for the rhyme scheme
And yes, the word 'damn' I shall use
dreadful this may be, a bad piece of poetry
No structure to it, no plausibility
repetitive idea and an epitome of ineptitude.
Ingenuity they seek, spirit they shall get
This rhyme too has been used, I bet
Simplicity, I worship, for ease I strive
But word 'bereave' be preferred to 'deprive'.
Hypocrites, they pose as saints and preach
The words, the wisdom, beyond my reach.
A bad poet, I think I may be, love's praetor
for I hurt people only to vent this theme
Rhyme scheme, I Screwed again to amuse
And the fourth line, should have internal rhyme
Those who seek, the structure they see
The rest live in dementia of rectitude.
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