The Poem

The other day I was musing over a lost bet to a certain Lademan Smith. You see, if I lost the bet, I had to write a 'creepy, scary, whatever' song for her. Well I lost the bet. So I was musing, as I said, over this lost bet, when I started writing a poem in silly angst, hoping maybe some lyric would come to me, so I could go that route, rather than that whole melody bit first. This poem turned into what you see now. Enjoy, :^) Note well, I love you all. Especially you, Mark. Yeah, without further ado:What is wrong with Lademan?She always sings sad songs o’ man.Why can’t she write happy?

What is wrong with Lademan?
She always sings sad songs o’ man.
Why can’t she write happy?
Or like most girls, be sappy?
What is wrong with Lademan?

Nothing’s wrong with Lademan.
She just chooses to move on.
She is no fleeting butterfly,
Flying and dying uknowingly
Nothing’s wrong with Lademan.

What is wrong with Lademan?
As she leaves the luncheon.
Why can no picture take?
Why does she play the flake?
What is wrong with Lademan?

Nothing’s wrong with Lademan.
What is wrong with you mon?
Sure, there was no picture we could make
But there was no finer jewel for Lynch to take,
Nothing’s wrong with Lademan.

Now what is wrong with Jalsevac?
He reminds me o’ the Bal-a-zac.
His snaky eyes and misdemeanors,
His crunched up cups, and table manners?
What is wrong with Jalsevac?

Everything’s wrong with Jalsevac.
Let us not continue on this tack,
Lest the Bugos put us in the rack.
Oh great Sass, please don’t defenestrate,
Let’s put this to the Magistrate:
“Everything’s wrong with Jalvsevac.”

What is wrong with Samwise fair?
There’s nothing wrong, he is so great.
He’s one of a kind, a true primate!
Sam, Sam, he’s the man!
If you can’t act’em, no one can!
There’s nothing wrong with Sam the man.

What isn’t wrong with Sam the ma’am?
He’s just as good thrown off the dam.
He’s full of bluster, blood and bile,
He barely runs the needed mile!
He acts’em cause he’s a youngest child.
What isn’t wrong with Sam the man?

There’s nothing wrong with Sam the wise,
He’s smart and witty, he has no vice!
He may play the fool, but it’s for friends
We all know they are mere imitations.
He’s meek and humble, just carries a big stick.
There’s nothing wrong with Sam the wise.

There’s nothing right with Sam the wise!
He plays the smart, he is the fool!
He sees a butterfly and he starts to drool.
Meek and humble? He’s just hairy.
No more, on him no longer can I tarry.
Tuh, Sam the Wise, he’s just not right.

Then what of Lola bug? She’s all wrong!
She’s such a lug, and she’s such a tug,
She beats you down with her tongue!
She sits imperious, demanding done
Every whim that crosses her fancy.
What of Lola bug? Ugh, she’s so chancy.

What of Lola bug!? My gosh she’s all right!
Crossing her might be your plight,
But her voice is like a drug! Intoxicating.
Her personality and her mug, inebriating.
Ahhh, Lola Bug, Lola Bug, sweet perfection.
Cross her, and I’ll use you for delectation.

Furthermore, of her it must be said,
The best chocolate is first bittersweet,
But once ‘tis refined, what is more glorious a treat?

What is wrong with Joseph?
Nothing I would say.
He is always right!It is him we should all obey.
Never once has he been a trite.
Never does he miss the mark.

What is wrong with Joseph?
I must agree, nothing there is here to say.
Any who cross him, fate makes fey.
Hey, is there anyone more cool,
Or who better plays the fool?
Ha, what is wrong with Joseph.

Fidelio, the little sweet,
What can we say but tweet?
Not perfect no, but is there one
As True, as good, as this little one?
Busy as a bee, curious as a cat,
Beautiful as an angel, eater of the fowl.