Get Original

A shiny chalice, filled to neck.
Gleaming –golden,liquid unknown.
Of all pours in, concord to masses,
A stinking mix, of swill and heck.

Them talk so full of banal,
Their words cliché, response so anal.
Their wisdom –borrowed, from the wise.
their passions –grow, with no device.

dabbles with -a paintbrush, a sports, a journal,
Disparity in-good soul & materialistic infernal.
them smile & sync, to please the power,
they mould to mint ,the cheese of hour.

Persona militates ,our divine aura,
Dilettantism contaminates , artistic fora.
Put price tags on things to value,
Those sycophants, bend down to sell you.

I rather keep their kind in mind,
I rather have them did their time,
I would have warned, If I were there,
I see you baffled, to (their) rusted-flair.

Of all things done, to social proofing.
Their life on showcase, open to goofing.
Why I must stall, my frivolous banter,
Un-mask-their plain , pathetic-self.
Must truly warn, like a social mentor.
to save originale of this cancer.

BY: vishu mishra

get original

get original


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