The white-bearded man watches his great grand young ones playing; And slowly he bows forward his life-hewn head; Giving up on reminding himself that he was once a small child having fun; That the happy children’s sharp and penetrating squeals might ricochet off their toys and braised knees; And be as though a gun.

For scandal will torment its subjects with its curiosities and ignited incidents, Moulting, as it passes, and fanned with innumerable innuendo and suggestions, From ear to ear, from eye to eye, from mouth to mouth, sharp words which bother, Seducing believers, the cultured phrases which spread across all dividing ranges, Monolithic and dimensional, for the sake of scandal and its fuelled tormenting.

At the parade gathering of the included diversified the streets are filthy; The chosen space for the celebration of the fostering of indulgences; The renewal of this life requiring annual repentance and redemption; The voyeur public cheering as the parading spectacle passes them by; And with their waving of the glittery paraphernalia comes forgiveness.