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.