His Homeynence (troubled by the recent breakdown in the Peace Talks) proclaims: <br /> <br />All parties need to grow up <br />Before you make me throw up <br />This juvenile blow up <br />Elevates my woe up <br /> <br />'Mama he called me names <br />Mama she just plays games <br />Mama I'm bad, he claims <br />Mama I'm sorry I came' <br /> <br />Drive away the talent <br />Behave less than gallant <br />Soon they'll be space to rent <br />Man's distress—we make no dent <br /> <br />Retire vicious cuts <br />No ifs, ands, or buts <br />No shots in the nuts <br />Have you got the guts?<br /><br />His Homeynence Sir Peckerwood Ali III<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/number-13/
