The Tower Of Babel Poem by Francie Lynch

From the Tower of Babel,
Being chiselled in stone,
Come forth new commandments
To appease the throngs.

One through three
Remain the same,
Following a change
In the demigod's name.


Numbers five through ten
Need some twerking,
Alternatively,
They weren't working.
Lie, cheat, con and steal,
Whatever works
To seal the deal.

Covet women and neighbour's goods,
Stay west of Eden's pussyhoods.

Number four stands alone,
The command is clear:
Honour the unborn, not the Mom.

After a frantic panic,
Babel collapsed in pitiful spite;
Its ruins scattered
On the western Atlantic.
Our world continued to spin,
Because we were resolved
To sin.