If love of Self is, indeed, supreme
Then hypocrisy is no empty dream,
Selfless love is embedded in books
As empty, as are human looks.

Beauty, lies in the eyes of the beholder
A Diamond for you is to me a boulder
So, it’s all relativity of another kind
If you’re not Einstein, but the simple mind.

Great things are done by the little
If you’re an ant, then glass ain’t brittle,
Weight on the shoulders is not burdensome
Not nearly as much as when you are lonesome.

You can ramble and get lost in forests dense
You can also ramble bits of nonsense
For, light doesn’t always show you the way
Nor, brightness illuminate all that you say.

Complexity is a word complex to understand
For, anything complex is only sleight of hand,
Life itself is a conundrum, a queer, weird, maze
Some mornings are clear, and some all haze.

Not everything is given to logic and reason
Why do you like Spring and I another season,
You may like a line or two of this piece of poetry
Or, ‘cause you like titles call this Hypocrisy.    

(The author is a businessman and part-time poet. He can be contacted at ashok.sawhny06.poems@gmail.com)