The stench of perspiration
In the heat of the day
There is no air-conditioning
Why does it have to be this way?
The minutes are so ever slow
As we dread on in torture
The restless crowd is ready
To deliver the blow-
Or explode!
The sweaty bodies
The thoughtless minds
The tired eyes
This is way too unkind
The sweltering temperature
The scorching sun
This is hopefully-
Not our Deathwish