Shut Up You Poem by Mark Heathcote

She cannot be silenced by his 'Shut up, you.'
Makes her blood boil into a piping-hot stew,
Volcanic lava erupts and begins to sprout.
Now a dark, squealing sow gets out her snout.
'It gets pretty dirty' this defending—honour
Don't be small, listening to others manure.
Don't hide and become non-existent.
Sure, have an equal say and stay insistent.

'Looks here-I-am, I'll have my very own, say.
Don't you even try quieting me or inveighing?
That, what you've said has more importance.
Else, believe -me, they'll be holding post-mortems.'.
Her simmering pot is now starting to cool.
She cannot stay angry with this grinning fool.
It's now her, the one saying 'Shut up, you.'
'Shut up you! '... 'Shut up you, ' ghoul!
In the end, it's all just a hullabaloo.