His words left thoughts not unforeseen
Like muddy prints through mezzanine.
And who would clean the mess he made
Or who’d define that masquerade
As yin and yang caught inbetween?
Who would deny it’s not obscene
To leave behind what seems unclean
And yet we sense a renegade!
His words left thoughts.
He paved his way with a smokescreen
By acting like a Philistine —
He’d then profess to serenade
His followers with truths ‘he made’
That left the rest of us dismayed!
His words left thoughts.
—
© Joy A. Burki-Watson, 2015
