ONE ROTTEN APPLE!!!

'm hurt
To beyond

Do I have to
Wear shoes, to
Trample my
Truthful words
Or,
Wear my gloves
To rip apart
The holy curse

O, there!
The muses of the muse
What glory, I
Submit myself
To colour my, blood
Red.

What use, passion
Doeth, if
Not fed
To freedom, unearth

I deploy, no sin
Under my slippers
Then, why
The people
Does me wrong

My contact, is
Not ruthless
To thy palpitating heart
Why for, then
You turn blue
By reciprocating
Thy ugly thoughts

Let us wash
Our hands, anew
And, learn
To honour, and
Underline the respect
To every words
To every line
To every para
To every book
Coming to thy fore

.. but who wronged?
Just
"one rotten apple"!
Oh, no!
Squash it, from
Thy memory, Sir

But, dear Sir Ampat
Thy whole barrel is
Still untouched , by
Any spoil.
Do thy Pen
What the ink desires!

Amen!