Only to me , came a poem from His breath

                                               The world He'd done right, 'cept some Irish that were left

                                               So He took these lefties to reason things out

                                               For the Irish don't worry , and never seem to pout

                                               With tears in their words , like their vows said in chapel

                                               Only lefties of the Irish gut a poem with a scalpel

                                               It pains me so , when the righties lament

                                               From the poems that are written in the Irish cement