Mahatma Gandhi, man of peace,
Never did his struggle cease
Until the yoke of foreign hand
Was shaken from his native land.
Although his ways seemed very odd,
He truly was a man of God.

The British rulers were perplexed;
What would this little man do next?
"He doesn't fight, he don't eat meat,
He wears no shoes upon his feet!
And yet his followers abound;
They think a saviour they have found."

But even heroes aren't immune;
His frail body faltered soon,
And roughened feet with toughened skin
Grew weary, and his body thin,
Till illness made his breath atrocious,
This super-callused, fragile mystic, hexed by halitosis.