The Loss

He did it, no qualms or faintest moralistic trait He knew the vulnerability, went ahead To reap the benefits from someone’s plight Like a scuppered beast in flight Wearing a private smirk of victory To walk away and cast his smut Upon the shoulders of some other Like a vulture with rich pickings Feeding on its fated carcass He walked away with fake innocence Carrying an air of falsehood Into a world that owes him A fine lad, he’s got a job And got in line with the rest of his kind To smugly gloat and brag and flaunt Those ill gotten gains His pealing mirth to celebrate And taunts about the hag The lad can do that, the lad Half gone, his generosity knows no bounds With new found wealth And fabrications to the law The lad can do that, the bad He has his innocence all wrapped up To give and cloud the truth He will insist, he knows his place His adorning shell of protection Swathed in obstinacy, to make him win He can do that, the lad’s got it all To sway this and to say that He can return and adjourn And court with the masters To state his piece He will return to do it again