Crude

Truth tastes bitter when lies abound, Crude form shimmers on edgy grounds. Chatter storms loud with empty noise, Flatter feeds proud such crafty poise. Hurts hurl more pain in minds insane, Loud talk seems vain in choice profane. Sense vulgar feel in posture crude, Vile taste reveal a manner rude. Vain content grooms a rancid world, Pungent such rooms where evil swirls. Watch then and see how bad things are, Horrid fancy flings door ajar. Decay now pains with corrupt trust, Doom seeds odd plains as debris rust. Too late for tears these atmosphere, Sad worry fears the worst case here. Leon Enriquez 28 March 2016 Singapore