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Poem

It was the Emperor's birthday. 
The Coliseum was sold out.
All over the Cityyou could hear  
The people laughs and shout. 
First came on the animals 
In the early evening heat' 
Not much fun once They’d had
enough Christians to eat. 

The came on the gladiators 
All dressed up to thrill, 
Because it was Caesar's birthday 
They weren't allowed to kill. 
Then came the speciality act, 
The deflowering of a hundred  maids 
All tastefully laidout
Under transparent sunshades. 

Out strode the proud Nubian 
Dressed In G string and sarong 
Eager to get started at 
The clash of the gong.  
First three dispatched with ease 
He stiffened, clasped his head 
And without further ado 
Fell down stone deaded dead. 

In the stunned silence 
The promoters was heard to stay 
He was fine at dress rehearsal 
Earlier on today. 
It being a little early 
To send the crowd home 
They had a little riot 
And they burned down Rome.
 
The Emperor got excited 
And quickly joined 
Swaying to the flames as  
He played his violin.
That's how the Empire ended 
By contemporary description; 
How different it could have been 
With Viagara on prescription.

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