Seated one night at the keyboard
I was lonely and ill at ease
When Sylvin wandered over
Proffering wond'rous teas
I knew not what I was typing
She glided by and then
I said a word
Which the Board Cops heard
And it wasn't a great "Amen"!
Coffins are comfortable
Or so a great man said
But Xerxes sought
An idle thought
"They're not worth being dead"
Paladin said
"To use such rhymes
Why 'tis a crime!
Why not write prose instead?"
Then yonder Ymir
He came over here
He looked at me, and said:
"Your terrible verse
Is right now getting worse
You should really have just stayed in bed!"
And then spake Jay
"There will be hell to pay
If ever this reaches the Board"
"They'll lynch you in a mob
A terrible job
And Sylvin will reach for her sword"
"You'll hang from a tree
By one rope or three
You would have been better off bored"
So now I'll depart
Leave you with my art
And hope that you don't dislike it
At once when you sight it
And run off before I am floored!
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