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"Invictus" Revisited
"Out of the propaganda that covers me,
False as the news from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of ignorance
I have not winced nor cried aloud much.
Under the bludgeonings of republicans
My constitution is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and uncounted votes
Looms but the horror of the future,
And yet the menace of the bush
Finds, and shall find me, hopefully, without a suture.
It matters not how strait the ashcroft,
How charged with punishments the scrolls,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."

You stink, and you just trashed a very good poem, you jackass.

A masterclass inmurdering poetry.