And very proud of your intelligence
You wear it like a mask,
But smile, I see through your mask
To the sniveling insecurity
Of your scornful soul.
Some of the others may be fooled
By your self-righteous dog and pony
With the floppy shoes and
The big red honking nose as you
Feed me your disdain by spoonfuls -
But I am immune. Bless your heart,
As I once heard it said, lest some
Part of it survive the rot that is
Your brain, after the maggots
Complete their scavenge, I assume
Was meant in polite company.
This malice you serve is petulant,
So portions of service I return,
But I have known more maligned
And stared directly into bleaker eyes
Cold and dark and thoughtlessly mean,
So say what you must, But smile
As I do, amused by naivete.
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