The Municipal Monk's

Untrained in the act of gateghost and indeed a bystander,
Noviced wind labourer!
It prosper us not, if we don't have destined saving port
Go tells!! What are we then?
What shall ere become of us and when?

Days go by a municipal working monks
Street richmens Juno junks.
They eat volumpteous we lick their shoes dust.
Higher on rocky hill we aimed there crust
We theirs key eyed sockets.
Yet One to be blaimed
If windfall alerted and war sublimed

Angered on to do terrific deeds, yet worst in our wrist
We accept undue charities it folded us in our blindness
Bribery and corruption in our prideous list
You taught us this act together subtle unkindness.