P.C. Poem by Glenn Ford

Constant pressure to be correct
Political correctness gone mad
When we write, they will dissect
Extracting words they deem bad.

What we say is recorded now
Be careful what we utter
Check our consonant and our vowel
They'll damn us if we stutter

We can't say this we can't say that
We hear it night and day
The world's gone mad and that's a fact
Restricted in what ever we say

What happened to poetic licence then?
You know, the way things used to be
When swords could be blunted by the pen
When thoughts and speech was free

Now they have us in a vice like grip
Choking us with restraint and law
Free spirits told to watch their lip
Being told what to write, what a bore!