My blasphemy, proselytizes, walls
Which lead, the streets, to your abode
Like ragamuffins, lost in, friendly brawls
Shouting out, shibboleths, embargoed!
Beyond the, ‘obscene’ truths, laid bare
Are myths, rendered to, hellfire
Few passers-by, do dare, to stare
At their, mirror of, my satire!
Do care, to search, yourself, in there
Wild riots, of my, conjectures
How debonair, is your, sweet despair
To be, one of, my satires!
They weather rains, and spits, and sun
Profound relics, of a, truth’s showdown
In a herd, that makes, no opinion
A ‘shenanigan’, My Graffiti, In Your Town!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra