Let the drunks be drunks

Let the children be children

Let men be pigs

Let women be whores

and goddesses

Let the poor be dead

Let the rich be unhappy

Let this average poet

be the best father that he can be

in the space of a tiny quarter

and a job with minimum wage

with booze on his lips

and cancer in his lungs

let those who need God need God

Let your neighbour with three kids

and an absentee husband

be able to whore around

sell her to the most mangy dog

and buy blankets for her children

Let things be the way we wish them to be

Let sleeping dogs lie

Learn to mind your own business

and not fiddle with fate

the unfortunate are often unguarded

and impressionable.

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