I have a friend named Kevin Kilmer, but the last poem he wrote was

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I really stink
And so do you.

Knowing that he would never write a better bit o' verse he gave up the poetry game and went into a cloister. Shortly thereafter he was forcibly ejected for putting the moves on the novice nuns and, mostly, because he was a Protestant. But he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and like the real man he is, threw a tantrum about how unfair it all was. At that point a window opened high in the cloister wall and he looked up to see the lovely face of Novice Clotilda staring down at him and she threw him a love token so that he would always remember her and what might have been.

Cleaning off the contents of the chamber pot as best he could he made his way back to civilization, such as it is, and started a new life as a guttersnipe.