Help, help, help,
I wear my cloak of impotence,
Running around, graceless,
As I try to graduate from a whelp.

Help, help, help,
I thought friends, likes, and kin,
Support me in my endeavors in
Achieving success, only to fall and become strep.

Help, help, help,
Recession  is looming
People worried about famine
And every person is on a flip,

Help, help, help,
The other facet of war, hunger
Lingers and throws you back in rapport
To WWII, when all sectors crashed and none slept.

Help, help, help,
Entertain your soul with faith
Leaping into despair with a breath
Percolating freshness and sweeping away dejection.