Someone else labour ground
Someone else vicinage
They mocked him his abject peasantry
And lampooned his family
O with the same tarnishing brush
The mockery in broad daylight no mean mockery
Those who mock turn out to be a grievous pauper
On weekends they mocked as he watched
Shame hanging impetigo impetuously
Upon him at alacrity of his orotund toils
Those too console him turn out a grievous mockery
Sometimes his taskmaster barely paid him in full
How he could scoop buckets of shame in my dire observance.
Those who mock him turn out to be a grievous pauper
To the fellow folks these tides of mockery
Could only worsen as the tides rides the grand canyon of shamelessness and contempt
Bumping in the pot and cauldron of mockery
Until this change of fortune accentuate,
the bizarre of the avalanche rusticated his impulse
He who mocks shall be mocked
He beats them in the hollow drift
Certainly the smitters suffocated
By horrendous smother of the free spirit
And the mope ,the clairvoyant I,seer seen the farthest glory
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