There once was a girl from Westcoastant,
Who had things she sought but she oughtant,
Was so close to her goal,
But blew off his control,
And too long her search left all for naughtant.

There once was a knight from the mountant,
Who had what was she needs, but hesaughtant,
The two in such great rhyme,
But near doomed by the times,
Their lives left in mimes which was terribly
horroughtant.

There was this poor guy from cearalplantnearant,
Who stuck his nose in where he oughtnotant,
His friends they were few,
Except for these two.
And his prayers wore a hole in the his apartment.

His cry was you see,
Lets talk, yep us three
But knew he the truth,
Bowed out of the booth
Begged the two would at least honestly convasant.

Of each don't you see,
He knew some and to be
Honest, on long journey
Hoped both they would turny,
Wants desires and needs so close, hoped their
friendship would tauntant.

Don't give up he did audioutant.
Give it a try, yes you oughtant,
Maybe one last great chance,
Worried he, would they'd dance,
And glorious things might he hoped come outant.

This is terrible prose,
He again stuck is nose,
In places he shouldn't.
But resist no he couldn't,
Please don't hate me you see, just best interest is
what I wantant.

Be Safe Sane and Consentual,
In all you do sexual,
Watch over he will,
From downunder tho still,
Extreme happiness has been fortnight he gotant.