Sinner
I hate to sin but love the sinner
In every act I am still all time winner
Under the table, I offer him cake
Icing done above, though it is all faked
Ministers, constables, or any corporate sister
All are in a team to extract something sinister
Nothing can be accomplished on a straight path
Zigzag I go, curving on their wavy heart
Forms and reforms have invisible dotted lines
I give them some bribe, they appear in no time
Long queues are cut for influential caught in rut
Over a glass of beer, all the obstacles are shut
Foolish I would be if I was not ready to sin
Why waste time at judicial courts,
When it is so easy to win?
Godawful Poetry Fortnight
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