Here's a poem for all concerned about the ***** words I write/
Every night I wrestle with them, all the filth which I have learned/
All the strife I water down to soften up the reader's eye/
Trying not to bug or bother anyone with pristine ears/
I have years of cursing loudly/
I have scars to prove that's true/
Snotty women so offended, Bar-room tables up-side ended/
Walking home without a ride/
Deep in angry mumble walk/
Spouting each and every letter/
Feeling better as I vent/
Where I went or what I'd done/
All my sins were fun, it's true/
Hence I've put them down prosaic/
***** words from me, to you