Epitaph on a Tyrant

W.H. Auden (1911–2004) Epitaph on a Tyrant Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; He knew human folly like the back of his hand, And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, And when he cried the little children died in the streets.