On a bed I did repose,
Thinking what to write in prose;
Then at once it came to me,
About what this poem should be.

With some thought and little jot,
This poem I began to wrought.
One and Two rhyme A and A;
There was nothing else to say!

Looking up, there came the dawn.
It could not be, I must be wrong!
I laid my book down and wept,
Wishing I had sometime slept.

To heaven I raised my eyes,
Praying God would hear my cries;
Then this idea came to me,
How to end this finally.

So with a fury I wrote
And quickly put on my coat.
Here it is for you to hear,
Look at me and please don’t jeer.

This poem is not at all sincere.