Ones a pond a dime
in a far far away land
stood a master of rhyme
no one could understand
He delivered a speech
for want to be heard
Many strangers besieged
by his impromptu word
They listened in horror
to his nonsense verse
wishing it over
but it only got worse
They walked away
but he followed their trail
refusing to say
goodbye or farewell
His voice droned on
burrowing into their brain
The man was no fun
only boredom and pain
Even at full trot
he equaled their stride
relentless he sought
to state diatribe
Their timing was exact
the street they ran cross
he was just three feet back
when he was heavily struck
And a crowd gathered round
he laid there near dead
Finally an audience found
as his last words were said
"I would not have cared
if someone interrupts
by yelling 'Hey, there
watch out for that bus'"
His time on earth ended
and as you would know it
so quickly forgotten
the unquoted poet
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