Shenanigans
The plate is full and overflows,
Why continue filling what’s full?
It’s clean but claim to wash it still:
Exhibiting tints of a clueless fool.
It’s shining its best but you polish still
What resplendently shines so bright,
Claiming to add glow to fieriest stars
That adorn hallowed heavenly height.
But you don’t want to fill;
In truth you want to deplete
While cunningly feigning still
That you put more on enough.
It’s that unmatched heavenly shine
That you’re out to extinguish slowly
While pretending in its glow to dine;
A foe with a calculated aim to darken.
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