Poetry

Time and Again in Camelot

There once was a young prince
Who thought a whole lot.
Saw himself in a way,
Saw himself as was not.

He saw him a dragon
That breathed rather hot.
“I’ll fight that there dragon,”
He muttered, “Why not?”

So forward he ran,
Hit it with a pot.
The dragon, quite angered,
Burnt him on the spot.

The moral to my ballad
Is easy to jot.

Don’t fight with a dragon
Who’s bigger, a lot,
Or else dead you’ll be
And your body will rot!!



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