Dangerous predication
Leads to gnawing trepidation
Without the normal verication
Of the data's historication
Inventive wordsmithery
Is not enough to savery
The poet's lack of rhymery
And missing commonsensery
The poet's heart had done been stole
from me a long time ago
Robbed by the giant hole
In the roving critic's soul
Well, at least that stanza featured real words
A small improvement over my absurds
But now it slips into the frozen fyords
Perished by the petard of its own swords
Metric violations abound
This line is much too long for meter to be found
The hollow echoes of poetry unsound
And nothing stops the harping hound
And now it ends
Time to hit sends
The truth it bends
For the heavenly forfends
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