Lie of a Genius

Lie of a Genius

He gingerly blends in the sad party’s mood,
Step by step with his nodding pose,
Waiters move like ants stuffed with food
Outside invaded burrows.

Gentlemen greet in happy circles,
In radius of their hands,
While children, carrying birthday bells,
Stick around their legs like sands.

Women with impatient eyes call,
Their daughters bathed with painted baits;
A rich trader’s displayed at the wall,
Unawares of his scapegoat fate

The Genius pauses in his drink’s journey,
Shakes a forward hand,
When asked, “Monseiur, hows the party?”
He lies, “The troupe is reverse of bland”

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