O Children hear me: F**K THIS ****!!!
She shouts, her protest a ribbon on the breeze
Sorrows and injustice have angered her a bit
She wants to see the world sail on fairer seas
Writing sharp entreaties she labours hard
Her words and wits are serious and sure
Each line is a deal, plays a card
Each one making me hunger for more
By the bolts of melody
Her mind has been stoked and struck
Her music soothes my malady
She's had the poet's luck
    O go ever on, roaming, waxing, raving
    The renegade bard who dwells by the avon