A Poem of a Poatish Predicament

Here is proof I can rhyme:


The Problem with Poats

Listen, my readers, and you shall hear
A gruesome tale void of cheer.
Twas afternoon and through the house
Was heard the clicking of keyboard and mouse.
It was the evil twins, chatting away,
That one fatal, singular day.
When on one private message,
One twin did not see what she wrote,
Thought it was "post," but in fact twas "poat,"
And the other twin was appalled,
For that is a mistake most insidious,
A poat is a creature most hideous,
And always comes when called.

Humans are its favorite feast,
It eats you while you're still alive,
Few there are who will survive
an attack by this awful beast.
There is no possible way to destroy it,
And only two ways to annoy it.
One is a torch that is lit,
And the other, sneezing in a fit.

Now the twins had a hunch,
That the poat on them would munch,
So off they did quickly scurry,
With the poat following in a hurry.
Bridget had a book of matches,
And she managed to set Sara on fire,
But it did no good 'gainst the poat.
Some pepper couldn't make a sneeze,
So they scrambled up two trees.
Sara was still a-burning,
And the poat was quickly learning
How to climb a tree,
So again the twins did flee.
Sara gave Bridget a hug,
For she was mad at being set aflame,
Bridget caught fire, both jumped in a river,
And the poat, on it came.

Bridget was nearly drowned,
For Sara had turned her upside-down
In the river, with an intent to kill,
And the poat came down the hill.
When suddenly, a pouce they did see
Looking wild, and noble and free,
On the breeze its hair did float,
As it charged upon the poat.

Now a pouce is a solitary thing,
Inclined to quiet pondering,
But the sight of a poat being rude
Puts it in a foul mood,
And it invariably kills it.

Sara stopped scowling
While the pouce was busy disemboweling,
And she set Bridget the right way (up).
"Sorry I tried to kill you," she did say,
And Bridget replied, "Its okay."

And the pouce was happy
Cause the poat was dead,
The twins were happy because they weren't
(Even though they were half burnt);
Thus ended the mishap(py),
(And if you must say "more,"
We request you say, "Mordor.")