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King Hypocrite

We have the king of hypocrites, right here on the soup
With more chastising, straight from his stoop
Once again, he points his finger, from high on his wall
A brand new blog with the same childish bawl

Deleted in twenty-four, that’s his usual hit and run
He likes his big words that help hide his fun
He stands at his pulpit, his thesaurus in hand
It makes him feel smart, here in poetry land

He likes to praise your work and then throw a punch
He’ll tuck tail and run and be gone before lunch
He gets his mighty courage straight from the keg
He’ll get blind drunk and then hump your leg

The simple truth will always contradict him
So he looks for new poets and then plays the victim
Like the trolls before him, he’ll wobble on his wall
Then like humpty dumpty, he will crack from his fall

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