Karma ain't a bitch.
She is an elderly matron who is having a drink, studying the map, and making notes. She is constantly watching the gate and clicking photos of those who go out, come in late, or kicks the dog.
She is the lamp post around the corner that stands her ground, 3 feet deep, and realigns your face if needed.
She is a glass pane that sees through you and slices you up if you don't respect her.
She is the unseen bird in the sky that sees the world you live in and drops a warning that wont leave your hair for a long time.
She is a patient woman who stays quiet, bites down on her mouth piece and swings from her fences, as you catch a nap.
She is an observer who watches you from far, sees you slacken and hurries forward to hasten your fall.
She is the unseen invigilator who sees what you write, listens to what you didnt say, knows what you truly are.
Then one fine day, she'd take the fire-iron, get behind the person of interest and shoves it in. Happens all unawares, leaves undetected but ensures the press notices it.
Karma ain't a bitch.
Karma is a bad-ass babe with poise, restraint and immaculate timing.
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