Womens Lib

          The unalienable rights of women,
          Have receded since old Adam's rib.
          To fully repose, a rose is a rose,
          The movement is called women's lib.

          Now far from the bomb and ecology,
          This era has never seen,
          The burning of bras in a roar of hoorahs,
          And calling male chauvinists obscene.

          Men must all stand aside and allow to proceed,
          In row after row go by,
          The feminist outrage and bitterness class,
          Once having to adhere and comply.

          They warn and they claim and they scream with dissent,
          Of all the crimes men propose,
          Then one delegate stands and shouts with intent,
          May I leave to go powder my nose?

          Epilogue:

          In all the movements and political scenes,
          If no humor is there to amuse,
          Then undoubtably, indubitably and quite unobtrusively,
          Your ending will be that to lose.