Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after, And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; He knew human folly like the back of his hand, And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
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11/8/2009 8:41:47 AM. #.1# You Are Here:
Epitaph On A Tyrant by W.H. Auden