You bite the hand that feeds
Again and again
And you get away with it
Crimes with no sin
Yet if someone dared
To do the same to you
You’d tell them to grow up
That you say, but won’t do
Of course there’s an excuse
One after another
Your self-righteousness
Makes others say “oh, brother”
The odd thing is
If I did what you do
I find myself lowered
A peg or two
Jealous, I am not
Of your wicked state of mind
I’m merely pointing out
It’s not hard to be kind
But when you’re always right
And you clearly are
You become the joke
Of people near and far
Find me, soon you will
We’ll have something to say
And all the while I’d be hoping
That you’d just go away
Moretti's Musings 