A witty riposte and the art of provocation
Sometimes the attribute of lower minds
That makes things ugly as hell
Makes all the difference.
Which is weird….
It runs through veins, disrupting hearts,
Explodes every nook and cranny of the grey matter
Each time the power of a timely and faultless provocation
Makes an interesting character
Leading to a highly reactive environment
Capable of manipulating the conscience of many.
Now the wit transforms to emotions!
Sometimes emotions are weird…
Tears are weirdly punctual
When only a few have the right to have sentiments
That incessantly get hurt
And strength is thrusted upon “the others”.
Then perpetually rising bitterness paves the path.
You learn to choose who’s your own?
And weirdly choose your responsibility towards them
Morality and sometimes nationality is pretty weird…
When you’re told to step back
So that those who are already spitting
And ceaselessly assail you,
Who never stop, could shine.
Perhaps, your presence outshines them
And the way it is told, makes an interesting seasoning!
The priestly wit, mostly, has a muddy rude performance
Based on body shaming, and exaggerated dressing senses
And a million little things like them…
It demands the aggravated arrogance to be defended
But I choose to balance the two – nettiquette and the courage
Never be bullied to silence.
The dead are silent but silence kills too.
What cannot be brought into life again
and never defies you,
A change is weirdly loyal.