Why the writer fell
No one will ever know
Perhaps the quips and snips he wrote
Were too much of a show
Maybe his plots were way too deep
Or, perhaps not deep enough
If he hadn’t written with crayon, yeah
It might have been good stuff
But no, he fell
All the way down
Now, he needs to write himself out
For when you are two
With nothing else to do
Crayons are good in the mouth