My time is done, my rhyme is run
Yet shall I say in part
I do not live near any river
Nor from a river hark
To reconcile I'll rhyme awhile
But promise in good cheer
Twill be a year 'fore I appear
to rhyme again in style

And in between, I'll vent my spleen
Continuous in some thread
I still remain in rhyming pain
Averse to cursed verse
And now I ask, put pride aside
And listen for a while
Who can move on when their heart is closed
To prose, a better style.

Apologies to SRS, bb, and XYZ
and now I think I'd better go
and put myself to bed.

Ah-men.