Cosmetic Intellectual

My desk-mate can hear My heart roaring silently in pain Doom, doom, doom the heart roars to me Whenever the cosmetic intellectual enters The Garden of Eden is before me To cultivate, plant and enjoy fruits of tree of life But the sand of success is shifting daily To those with shoulders to lean on, not brain power In the crescendo of honest efforts I receive diminuendo of dishonest rewards The seeds germinate but never yield fruits In this campus where foxes have holes to run to Fate is looking at me with cruel eyes My dreams are crashing to craters below The cosmetic intellectual ignores me But smiles and praises those with similar feathers When he makes lecture-room cosmetic factory When he makes lecture-room a theater for minor surgeries Of test-tube babies born with insufficient brains I have no choice but to kneel down and pray for my country