The Human Rights of a Wayward Woman
Even if she were a whore
With a visible moral sore:
The licentious from her jaw,
Largely The Deprived or poor,
A fool seeming to the core,
On all days A Bore
But broke A Toothless Law,
You mustn’t her on paper draw,
On her invective pour
Nor bang on her door…
These, a raising of dust and more,
For The Law silly defenses would floor.
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