The Half-Fast Horse You Rode In On

The semi-amassed are half-assed

They can only walk half-fast

You believe they pass you by

But their strides are not that high

Much amiss is aimless

And no one's name is stainless

Them, who catch you at your worst

You'll have to deal with first

But fret not those who feel, to advance

Need only look at you askance

When, what you see, you know is true

Ask self-righteously, "Who the fuck are you?"