with all the crime,
who is free to sit and rhyme
This world used to be so refined,
There is no good and bad defined
I have a task on hand assigned
And that is the only thing I could mind
And save the man from his own mankind
All the good ones are in jail
The convicts have already got the bail
Its high time I come out of vale
And follow the trail
There is going to be a quail
And may be followed by a gale
He may be eaten up by a whale
Or crushed into pieces by its tail
My job is to get the best ones to sail
Before that I need to get everything in line
Grab the best ones and not wait for their opine
And just take them on this journey gifted by the divine
Once they know they will not whine
And peacefully on the deck will they dine
Perfect boat for all will I have to design
Only so that the world will see another sunshine
Not me, so who could have written such a beautiful rhyme?
Though it would seem to you a crime,
But I really didn’t have the time
To let such an old story be sublime
Without wasting any of my dime.