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