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This place has been overpeopled by pigmies
Each one with an inflated ego
With illusions of greatness and grandeur
Seeking distinction
They are indistinguishable one from the other.
To cover up their impotence
They masquerade as omnipotent
With swashbuckling sideburns
And masculine moustache
Always bragging they appear bold
But when boldness is really needed
Uncontrollably their knees do tremble
They are haughty with the humble
Before the mighty they crumble
They are so small
They are so little
They are so brittle.
They think they are omniscient too
And repository of all wisdom.
One of them, for example,
A mastaan with a pair of thin loins
Learned only in computation
And crossword puzzle solution
With a thick head and a heart of chicken
Thinks he is the greatest of pundits on earth
Ignorant of his reputation
That he is the densest of dullards.
Walking like a stork
Does this bloated toad know
He is a past master in messing up things?
Or does he not know
That others know
He is small
He is little
He is brittle?
In the marriage mart
None is handsomer or dearer
And brought to the hammer
They get themselves bought by uglies and dollies
Yet these cuckolds and coxcombs
Think themselves Cupids
And each one a ladykiller.
Eternally engaged in an internecine fight
They profess themselves to be friends
And like benignly smiling swines
Each other they malign all the time.
Hardly able to stand on their own without a prop
Either a maternal uncle or a patron at the top
They trip each other
These fops
In their burning passion to reach the top
Have flopped themselves down so low
Do they know
Or do they not know
They are so small
They are so little
They are so brittle?
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