I allowed him to misuse me
Because of my much wider wings of friendship
He thought it was my reliance on his inherited intellectuality
Can intellectuality be inherited?
A big no
But he floated high
And thus thought his birth right
To treat me as his second fiddle
Friendship he never knew
Little did he realize that he was at the margin
And my thrust was much towards the center
From a timidity-driven aggression
He derived gratification
By treating me as his second fiddle,
For a man who knew no friendship
But to have someone at a higher pedestal
And the rest as his second fiddle
I could only pity on him
Basking on his timidity
With propellants of stupidity
Lifting him high and higher
Related story
End of Prachanda
