You are nothing but a viral wart
A wrathful creature, the liberal sort
I look at you, a sad disgrace
A growth protruding on the human race
You take a stand with joyful glee
Then run away from what you see
The wart grows black on humanities face
A viral plague you fully embrace
Where lies abound and hate does grow
The proverbial weeds you every day sew
From within your heart the lies never cease
No one could buy such words as these
Your words like arsenic try to kill
The deep-seat truth that’s in you still
Your lies like stitches weave and stand
Across hate’s shallow broken band
There’s nothing sacred from on high
You haven’t cursed with lies so sly
The Acharn
- Cecil Hill
- Retired military officer and wife. Taught at Assumption University of Thailand from 2002 -2007 and at Southwest Jiaotong University - Emei Branch 2007 -2010. Currently retired and living at home in Bangkok, Thailand. More formal education than common sense dictates. Career language and cultural enthusiasts. Combined knowledge of more languages than is practical. Both realized early on that material never out weighs spiritual. Pursuing the spiritual as a lifelong endeavor.
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