LOU P (ok, so I plagiarized)
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Lou P, child of scorn,
Grew lean while he assailed the seasons
He wept that he was ever born,
And he had reasons.
Lou P loved the days of old
When factories puffed and leninists were prancing;
The vision of a bolshevik bold
Was enough to send him dancing.
Lou P sighed for what was not,
And dreamed, and rested from his labors;
He dreamed of May Days in the Eastern Bloc,
And Prague's muscovite liberators.
Lou P mourned the ripe renown
That made so many a politburo so fragrant;
He mourned the Comintern, now on the town,
And Socialist realism, a vagrant.
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