A Poet Named Moe

There once was a poet named Moe
He’d write prose where ever he’d go
Often rhymes and straight verse
Some of his poems were quite terse
But many a fruitful words he’d sow;

He had many messages you see
Most were understood by me
Many a cryptic underground write
Hidden on many a new moon night
Alas, his secret messages were never to be;

For one day Moe slipped
After trying to be tight lipped
Letting the cat out of the bag
Making many of us wanting to gag
Alas, at the end, Moe simply flipped;

Let Moe’s poetry be a lesson to you
Putting his words out in plain view
This cannot be a good thing
As once allied elves begin to sing
In the end KARMA brings Moe his due;

By, Theodora Onken

April 30,2016