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A poem for special folks like a VIP pass
Reserved for people of a certain class
Describing the fortunes that they amass
A poem like a mansion with walls of glass
And polished door handles made of brass.
A poem for others who are vulgar and crass
Written for a loser, a wiseacre jackass
Who leers at every girl with a shapely ass
And enumerates the sins he'd like to trespass
If she'd ever lose her moral compass.
A poem for a young idealistic lass
Who reads poetry while lying on grass
About the climate perils of greenhouse gas
And ponders how humanity created this morass
As she listens to tunes sung by Mama Cass.
A poem that's dark and sweet as molasses
And one that's cold and deep as a glacier crevasse
Difficult to traverse as a mountain pass
Or winds like a road blocked by an impasse
Without obvious strategies to bypass.
There's a poem for labourers to chant en masse
Another like news from the Russian Tass
A protest poem to enrage and harass
A poem with attitude, back-talk and sass
There's a poem for everyone, I'm glad you ask,
But this is not one, said, alas.
Looks like you're having fun, you rascal!
ReplyDeleteSharing your pensees, like Blaise Pascal!
Looks to me like your having a blast,
(And that's a near-rhyme with -- ahem)!