Here we go again,
I take up my quill and pen,
To show Misty she�s lame,
And hasn�t got game,
Where will we be just then?

I�ll show the world what she lacks,
That she�s little more than a quack,
Shouting all day
Misspelling away,
What an uneducated hack.

We might actually like Misty,
If she didn�t get so darn pissy,
Subjects us to torture,
Just want to scorch her,
But then she�ll act like a sissy.

If I knew which herb to take,
For this massive, horrid headache,
I�d buy each one,
And have me some fun,
But for now my head I shake.

We know imprechauns aren�t real,
But she constantly says with a squeal,
I�m an imp and a pixie,
I�m so very tricksy,
What�s the great big deal?

How can someone be this blind,
She acts quasi-divine,
Some child of a demon,
Please, I�m leavin,
Won�t hold my breath for a sign.

I�d like to show you all now,
Why I�m having a cow,
Surely thirty mistakes,
In her last poetic take,
Make me ask, just how?

You even spelled limerick wrong,
Please, never ever write a song,
Your other suggestion,
Gives me indigestion ,
Would my lack of esteem be wrong?

Surely you must see,
How a sash is meant to be,
If the winner was crowned,
From that, I�d frown,
While everyone laughs in glee.

The only way we would know,
If from this place you would go,
A rise in brains,
Oh, what a gain,
People might not be so slow.

I do consider it a crime,
With the same word twice to rhyme,
If �response� won�t work,
Even with your quirks,
Don�t use it and save me some time.

I think I have finally shown,
That your writing, we shouldn�t condone,
You are not the greatest,
Just merely the latest,
Of those who�s brain is on loan.


Penned by my hand on the 15th of Haernos, in the year 136 MA.