The Pen & The Fraud

This poem is also related to my previous poem called Lies. Since decades, a lie had been running in the family. The elders thought I didn’t know the real story. They have been selling & telling the story of their good deed but the real story was never told. I have to put a stop to that, to say enough is enough. Suffering, pain, sacrifice & trauma are the main reasons to write this poem; not just mine but my whole family.

I’m fighting this mental bout
And simply wondering about
The why & the what
It’s pretty crazy somewhat

This is just not a thought
But an old & bloody clot
Suffocating the central block
It’s breathless & sort of clogged

The story back then you plot
Where a few people did nod
To sail your boat a knot
It’s nothing but the fraud

You ain’t wealthy but broke
Infact a kind of crook
It’s a pity if you look
Lies are written in your book

Now don’t say I smoke pot
Don’t take another cheap shot
I’ll call you Sir Lie a Lot
And pen you down to slaught

You see my pen can be that rod
It could make one bleed & rot
But this is not the path
I intend to ever walk

So stop flying high on your cloud
Do not fog anymore the crowd
My pen would then be that sword
It will cut your lies & the fraud

I know you do have a heart
Deep down you ain’t that snot
Look in the eyes when you talk
This is the only shot you’ve got

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