Help! Help! The devil is after me and I don't like it one bit.
Well what do you know , I have a hoof for a toe.
Gees Louise I have red knees.Oh fiddle, I have a tail at my middle.
How whack, I have wings on my back.Oh dread, to tic
Me off I have horns on my head.Although to some I tac
the look of a dirt devil.I never stopped to look away from
God's mighty gavel. I am sure I can tell people who I am;
Tic-for-tac my stories can rhyme a lye;
That only Founders know the stem of cells; Leading meters to why?
Daring I look up to them and through to those in SANE.
The Devil's advocate could go spell my name.
But to my "'family'" it is not the same.
To paraphrase my "Mum" it's just a game-To give you an
"O" instead of an "A"
But before my Dad dies and after I learn to see
Three jolly little letters were danced around called HIV.
To the medical cynic I would beg and plead to undo this cruel fate;
Yet based on my means it's all innate;
The cure for anxiety is allegedly parnate.
Try to measure the grain of blood like a red cross!
Don't pleasure denial, through which sands of time-
Not Egypt or a scarlet letter; Not like devils in dark ages litter.
If it is forward or backward it is how they lived;
To scrabble upwards like DARE or Mother's Against Drunk Drivers did;
To treasure the measure of life of each kindred kind
Like alphabet soup that that souls a mind.