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Pestilent Words

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Calendar's days are numbered
The pun words that they spit out;
Are the snake's expectorate.
At first I thought that this place is a perfect picturesque of heaven;
But no, as time pass by, 
It slowly become a hell with  full of fluorescent lightning.
As I hear those very loud noise of denigration;
I can't help but to question my own reputation.
I didn't came here for them to belittle with;
I came here to seek a good hereafter.
I didn't came here just for them to discriminate;
Why not say those euphemism in my face?
A backward poet always write rearward.
Greeted by those bonhomous smile; 
But I never thought there is a thick vizard they wear.
Really Sherlock? No! you are very clever!
How am I suppose to devote them;
If their will is a dead give away?
I thought I can make some musketeer here;
But no, I was wrong.
Champagne for my real friends, and;
Real pain for my sham friends!
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