You know, our Lord would have a might smite with third world plight,
Which is a gripe at what is not ripe with a hype of goodnight tripe,
As what is in sight is a might of gripe to what is out of sight
In plight with a gripe of what is not ripe I will type
So heed with greed to plant this seed creed
As to bleed without heed is to feed
Food for thought of an ought
Of surviving on nought.
We must aid the fight of third world not having tripe
With a might of smite at was and is not very right
And as I write, or type, I will hiss this gripe
Of out of sight plight of not having a bite.
Do you forbade in how we behave
Within the parameters of grave.
No comments:
Post a Comment