Paley Parade

Some untruth parading as history

Bends even the banyan tree;

The white blinds move,

Shows and way to unscrew

A babel of voices in the mind-

Repels sort of some kind.

Being a bourgeois one

Difficult to find a way in ton;

An amour with the dark side

Chose the way to ride

Along the new formats of cloud

And can be spelled aloud

That, one will pellucid the thought

Then, never I will be caught.