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NOT A W’RIGHT’ER.

Nested in the loops of righteousness


Orating the tales of heroism and valour.

Thus marched the authors with conscientiousness Abbreviating centuries and millenniums into folklore.


Wise, whimsical, and worthy they are


Right, wrong, obsolete, everything they know.


I, on contrary, am a writer devoid of knowledge and power


Guessing, speculating between the virtuous and fallacious show.


Humming, reciting your rhymes and lore, I grew up


To compare, I’ve got nothing to show.


Embellishing my gauche, trivial write-up


Right, wrong, obsolete, nothing I know.

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