A brawny body of form she may have,
Her breast is not seen socially in a sexy light.
But her words and actions express like raves,
That her purpose in this life is full and bright.
She smells of stench, not a rosy smell,
Her voice it barks, all bellows foul,
When spirits rise, she makes a spell,
This life she lives, it reeks and howls.
Can you preserve her naughty, her nice?
Will you remember her lesson is true?
You can pretend she paid a price.
You can guess that she was blue.
Our lives are spent and forgotten, 800 years from now.
Individual lost and society’s found, just like the Tao.