Nectared Venom

Of hypocrites and so called socialites... Monday, 16th April 2012

Neither can I fathom nor keep pace,
With the ever-changing grace,
Of this obscure world's populace,
The beau-monde and commonality, all in the race.
 
Who and to what end, to impress,
With a concoction of disingenuous devoirs,
Torrenting from those nectar-stained lips,
That rhapsodise but the half-truths!
 

With a beatific smile that emanates not from the soul,
Empathy personified, to the gazer on the whole.
Feigned ebullience makes you the cynosure,
Much claque earned with that blarney and composure.

Claims of frankness and candour, all begin and end,
With only those affinities and relations by law formed.
The time of the fidelity test I probably can't portend,
But a day shall come, when you cannot pretend.

Hypocritical are the relations, hypocritical are the ways,
I know nor have none of those traits.
Hence, have I no pal nor clique to my praise,
I know not if that is my gain or loss, but to surmise,
I quote my boon companion, "the 'Truth' is mine," always!