You can't believe in people, in places or in things;
And opposition, ultimately, is what all ideas bring.
So nouns cannot be trusted, and pronouns are the same –
It's always you or I, he or she, or everyone who's to blame.
Then you have those sneaky, beguiling, underhanded adjectives,
Whose awful subjectivity seems to be their prime objective –
For how can any word declare another to be 'beautiful'
Or maybe even 'crass', while to neutrality remaining dutiful?
With prepositions the situation shifts from bad to worse,
For our reliance upon them throughout life continues as a curse.
But there the peril pales to the threat of interjections – oh!
Should emotions be confined to mere exclamations? No!
I shudder to think of how we bow to the verb's commands;
To free ourselves from their cruel actions – this we must demand!
Soon, and quickly, must we act, or meet our fate haplessly,
Followed forever by the adverbs who pursue us restlessly.
And it's not a battle but a war, as the aforementioned join forces,
Because they find strength together, for conjunctions are their power source.

Well! But I cannot easily escape from these fiendish words.
Our parts of speech, in a manner of speaking, never go unheard.

TMK 28.7.2007