RHINO HORN and the flaccid Penis syndrome

Purchasers of Rhino horn
Goodness knows when they were born
So gullible, all taken in
So ready to offer up their chin
Their purses and wallets
For those who come
To steal and fool
And there’s always some
On the look out
For fools prepared
To spin a line
And then run scared

The flaccid penis
its history
Is long and far from hard
a key
For charlatans an rogues
To earn
A lot of money
And really turn

The screws
for animals far away
And The Rhino
who has had to pay.

Black marketeers and poachers
Cottoned on fast to what does pay
Spin the lies and watch them grow
Based on fiction as we know

Keratin Melanin Calcium three
Organic substances they all be
Combined in one great hairy horn
And that became the golden Dawn

Of reckoning for the roguery
For the spivvs and bandits of history
Why work your fingers to the bone
When you can earn more than you’d ever known

And all on a lie just like IRAQ
So many deaths caused so much flack
People are taken in everywhere
Creating what is their own despair

Traditional medicine has used the horn
For fever and gout and so I am torn
Into wondering why it should have been said
That Penis dysfunction also could have led

People to thinking but now I have heard
In Yemen it seems that it’s often occurred
When children are 12 they are given the horn
Handled knife it’s their manhood something to warn
Others the child has reached manhood today
Which just might account for the story in play

Tigers and Elephant Seals they appear
To have their penis used increasing the fear
That so many animals suffer and die
Because of poor intellect which is apparently why
No true powers of thought
with the inter net too
So much at our finger tips
So what to do

It’s interpretation and elucidation
Too much incoherence
Almost every nation
Misinterprets the knowledge
For its own ends
And their victims of course
That really are friends

The Rhinocerus anyone seeing they know
Straight out of pre history
Ancient ones show
Heavily armoured unchanged since before
And in the space of a few years
Of lies
And a war
Against them has seen them cut down to size
Wiped off the planet before our eyes

It’s incredibly wasteful
Of miraculous souls
Murdered in torment by jibbering trolls
Men and their penis still remain small
So they kill more and more
And more go to the wall

And still more dysfunction
One just has to say
We are loved for ourselves
At the end of the day

And if women really don’t find us to be
Beau’s in their beds
Then as poets then we
Can write on the internet
And sometimes pray
And dream that a soul mate
Will find them one day.

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