Weep For Ever, More, The Shaken, Gone. Poem by Michael Gale

The Devil shook his great big fat tummy which felled all other poor souls...
The devil laughed as shook.

Those many lives, that he took...
Come, now, espye and look.

Look at all the torcher...
In Satin's book.

The suffering of all sad faces...
In the country, of all, the races.

Can you, now weep, for the dead and gone? ...
Can we smile once more, before the next dawn?

Not likely, in this age...
Cannot you, or I, feel all the rage?

Happiness-no more...
The people are sad and sore.

Weep a final tear...
For something, else, we might not have to fear.