A Bard from Canard,
and a Muse on the booze,and a poet from Hexham-on-Tyne
were locked in a room, and threatened with doom
if they didn’t come up with a rhyme.
Heroic hexameter, iambic pentameter
the rhymesters just couldn’t decide
then things got real rough, ‘bout technical stuff
like irony, metaphor, time.
The Bard pulled a gun
shot the Muse in the bum
The Poet he took out his pen
as he stabbed the Canard
the Muse said, "En garde!"
ran the Poet direct through the heart.
As this poem portends
it comes to its end
with a word of advice to impart
whether lyric or ode, it’s not à la mode
to ever die for your art!
