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'Tis the old seedy sovereign of my soul
That claims the right to not cajole,
But to mouth obscenities into air
Foul with a knowledge of despair!
The right to damn you if I dare,
Or with you all my burdens share,
Or yet despise the others view,
That from my torment in him grew.
Yet grinning to myself in shade
Knowing how I've changed the grand parade
Without the contributors knowing it;
For it is so amusing from where I sit,
With thoughts piled up like so much shit,
That into my head just will not fit.
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