Below is the poem entitled From the Prison which was written by poet
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She was a colleen from Limerick
with honors in Cambridge and Warwick
Im a Chelsea hooligan from Harrow
unskilled worker with bricks in a barrow
Being a randy bloke, I always smile
to young foxy ladies who lives in style
A wink on the sly, my bed a la carte
but it's sheer shilly-shally on her part
What did she say? "I remained dubious
but I acquiesce with insouciance"
We walked to my place and she said this thing:
"This is my affaire de coeur not your wing-ding"
Everything was a misunderstanding
body... quintessential? boxer... expanding?
she dillydallied for half an hour
until my frown changed into a glower.
That my performance was evocative
that blowhard was to be talkative
so she never speaks with her mouth full
her intellectuality was a bull...!
Mickey mouse bad kitty, an awful joke
her constant balderdash deserved a stroke
I looked hither and yon for a retribution
to lambaste or cold cock her was the solution
This easy-rider wasn't worth diddly-squat
but abso-bloody-lutely food for thought
In hindsight, it might have been the reason
...burning the British Library is a high treason