She had been with the Greenham Common crowd,
And had run with the hunt saboteurs.
She'd gathered support for the miners' strike,
And protested the wearing of furs.
In a life-long battle for equality,
She joined every movement she could,
But as she approached the end of her days,
Something started to be understood.
She was tired of the fight, exhausted in fact,
Yet the world seemed as brutal as ever,
And she still felt that something was terribly wrong,
A feeling that never left. Never!
She finally realised with every march marched,
And with every rousing speech spoken,
That the more that she tried to fix the world,
The more she felt utterly broken.
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