A Child Of A Lesser Corn. Poem by Michael Gale

For the mouth doth run over and truest forth
Always babbling to and north.
Always away uncontrollable this beast
Never caring but naught the least.

This child that Ye gave to birth
To make Thy belly roundly a widest-girth.
She give unto Thee, no respect at all
Many names of Ye She hath to call.

A wedge t'ween this family pawn
No matter what time of day or Dawn.
She slaps Thy cheek
Because She is so non sheik!

She should have been aborted
Or maybe even, reported.
For She has for others no respect
She has no druthers, or no constrict.

Constrict that cowardice tongue to be held to a tightest draw...
Never more to be unleashed, except for thy tiniest breath claw.
Thy beating heart hath broken Thy best
Thy chest the one that loved Thy best.

As if thy suckling drawing breath to chest
Still that day was suckling to breast.
To life that gift that day
Given to one so undeserving today.