The Censorship lament
We have a thought and wright it down,
We Work the thought into the ground.
Work is done and we had so much fun,
I will just sit back and enjoy the Sun.
Off it goes to the editor, so proud,
100 pages that sing out loud.
The editor cut with all his might,
32 pages squeaky clean and tight.
Censorship, he cries, can’t have that alive,
More than my jobs worth, to have that survive.
