If Hester Prynne were alive today,
No one would mark her with a Scarlet A,
All the homies would think it gangstah,
And say “It was me, I totally banged her!”
An aging husband that may be,
No more than a sugar daddy,
And no one would blame her for seeking younger hearts,
And those who did have working parts.
No one would worry or get too nervous,
And try to have her daughter taken away by social service,
And, In fact, at very best,
The plot would hold no interest,
And much to Nathaniel Hawthorne’s chagrin,
In modern times, The Scarlet Letter, never written.