"In economics, the balance of payments, (or BOP) measures the payments that flow between any individual country and all other countries. It is used to summarize all international economic transactions for that country during a specific time period, usually a year. The BOP is determined by the country's exports and imports of goods, services, and financial capital, as well as financial transfers. It reflects all payments and liabilities to foreigners (debits) and all payments and obligations received from foreigners (credits). Balance of payments is one of the major indicators of a country's status in international trade, with net capital outflow."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balance_of_payments

Heres the context in which my poem has been written in. For the past few days, I have ventured into the morally gray (I will be doing a commentary about "God and the morally gray" in time to come) in order to fight against injustice. Until now, I have no idea whether I did right or wrong (hence, my experiences will be used as input for the post).

This poem speaks of my desire to come clean, and explains things from my point of view. Perhaps I should not have used the morally gray approach, however at times I find that desperate times call for desparate measures. Furthermore, seeing a good friend being made into a subject of humiliation just because of his so-called inability to perform in a particular game makes my blood want to boil.

And before my poem starts, I leave you all with a quote I recently found.

"All that is required for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke.

As long as I see evil, I will opposite it. The end.

And with that, I bring you readers my poem, titled "Balance of Payments".

Balance of Payments

A summary at disequilibrium
A defence for my guilty transactions
A subtle, impactful, stone written piece
A sheet that is so true, and meaningful
Blatantly obvious – Balance of Payments

Some sheets enjoy a surplus. Good for them.
And services positive. Some will go
Keynesian. Short term pain for long term gain
Many are in deficit. Good for us.
Living for the present isn’t a gift

My sheet mirrors my soul – Truth and meaning.
The currency of transfer, no one knows.
Keynesian. Short term pain for long term pain
Currently, I do not know where I stand
Capitally, excess long term outflow.

I once said to my teacher,” Please tell me
What is the point of this useless piece of sheet?”
He answered, “So you know what benefits
You, What helps you. What harms you. Good and bad”
Our underrated sheet mirrors our soul.


So I come clean now with no strings attached
I may have dwelt in the gray like you but
My intentions have been sparkling white and
Yours have been tainted black but whitewashed well
Radials contract, circulars relax

Now did that help you see your piece of sheet?
Dilate your pupils and don’t blink away
Dark Knight has made a Joker out of you
With pseudonyms I fought your injustice
Open your eyes to your sheet. Dare to add?

I do. Your constant practice of dumping
Drives innocents into a deficit
Their poverty cycle is your transport
Red lights, humps, stop signs, I embodied all
Now what were you saying about stocking?

If your feet still fail to match my shoe size,
Develop your cerebral hemispheres
I'll practice protectionism until
You stop your dumping, wave your white flag then
Come say my stocking is irritating