Graves of the Lefties
Imagine a lovely garden , tea for two , and this story...
for only to me , came a poem from His breath
The world He'd done right , ' cept some Irish that were left
So He took these lefties to reason things out
For the Irish don't worry , and never seem to pout
With tears in their words , like their vows said in chapel
Only lefties of the Irish gut a poem with a scalpel
It pains me so , when the righties lament
From the poems that are written in the Irish cement
daniel Hall Kleinmeier-poet
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