Gemma

You never mind, their curses and blasts, always try to be kind, face set like a stone, when you feel trapped, it's best you go alone, won't get frightened, with men who are strapped, say you're divine, surround you like ghosts, first to collapse, knowing life’s not their own, your head won’t chime, with scarves worn for Mass, that's another time, woe, woe, woe, like shoes on a last, all they do is moan, they beg for more wine, slurp it aghast, you tell them it’s fine, you cook with gas.