Chortle and Laugh, Laugh and shriek.
Not one of you in the back is meek,
Order us, insult us, and break our spirits, 
I'm so sick, I don't want to hear it,
So later on, when you are lost,
I will show you, the true cost,
This frosty glare and bitter laugh,
Will be your undoing,
You do the math.
11-15-01
Savannah Comilla