The Word Assassin
A ten line rhyme they speculate
Dibbledabble would obliterate
It’ll be a dibble doddle, he is sure to create
The assonance he will not break
A simple task of rhyme on his plate.
Yeah it’s a walk in the park but who locked the gate
It’s a dibble wobble his ideas half bake
As the pattern begins to dissipate
Sweat beads drip to form a lake
Pressures on, doubt slithers in like a snake
Can’t think of another line, oh what a fake
Looking up in a tortured state
What’s this? Does he hallucinate?
Fourteen lines that all relate!
What’s that they call?…Dibs put on the brake
Stop that man, he need to regulate
For all our sake
The spate of ate’s, ake’s and eat’s reverberate
Swift actions needed before it’s too late
A quick thinking Foxglove took up her word rake
And with the assistance of Bob all rhyming words they did relegate
under the ground through an open grate.
Leaving Dibs to contemplate
No more words to assassinate