Ire

Morons on fire

They are out of their lair

Sire, oh Sire!

This situation is dire!

 

They came down the gyre

Want part in the Eyre

Ask to play them lyre

And leave us in mire

 

Rules written on quire

It is all over the shire

Bells ring from the spire

Run along you squire!

 

Run till you tire

Sweat that you acquire

On the brows that you admire

For something you aspire

 

Jump over the barbwire

Gather and conspire

To bring down the Empire

And achieve what you desire

– by Shwetha H S

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