Keeping up appearances – a poem

Keep up the facade was his creed,
he may be very much in need,
but his toxic masculinity entitles him to the dastardly deed
of planting a seed were it is unwanted.
Unwarranted he threads on thin ice,
comparing other people with the lice who hide in his fur.
Furious about life,
wanting to hurt others.
Flickering knife,
he doesn’t bothers about the end of the world.
As long as he can get hold,
of bags of gold to prove his daring dominance,
over the soul he sold.

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