The Poet

I am good at what I do,and what I do is write But now my talent has given me a fright cause I went around town boasting and bragging And this set the king to nagging Seems the jolly fellow loves a good rhyme but cannot find someone to write them all the time Now being as I said I was the best he is putting me to the ultimate test now if I don't write a rhyme afore morning's first light then it will be me that the exocutioner will smite At first I listened in total disbelief as he challenged me,while chewing a tobacco leaf Now looking through the bars at the block stained red I realize if I don't come up with a rhyme,it's off with my head But as the sun sinks low in the western skies my pen slowly dies.......