You live a life of grandeur
And enjoy flaunting your sleek coupé,
But you forgot the precarious latrine
Waiting to be swallowed by a sinkhole at your mother’s;

Your mother’s shanty doesn’t smell of roses
But a squalid odour, which now perturbs
The breath under your nose;

You say my sisters are dirty and loose,
That they jump like police dogs onto your coupé,
That they’re disseminators of the deadly disease
And the polluters of the population;

You chortle as my brother
Rapes and maims my little girls,
But you forget the effects of the lethal ether
That you keep injecting on his brutal brains;

I tried in vain to remove the speck in your eye,
But with snobbish arrogance,
You told me to first remove the log in my eye
Before I run roughshod over your business.