Hypocrisy

The moralist stands tall and ever stern
In hopes that he reveal, in all our fun,
Some truths and rights to which we all must turn –
Despite the spirit held in what was done.

Such hearts of men were settled on delight:
A playful mood, not meant for debating
“insights” – at least the kind to give a light
That aims to see beyond surface weighting.

Repelled, the knee jerks up with little thought.
To rhyme our words pursues no verities
Or absolutes as inquiry has sought –
The words, so put: nary realities.

So thrown aback – perhaps I am a hack –
No argument, in verse is my attack.