Subject: Another Chris Poem
Our bearded Chris, imperious
Stands bravely poised at the edge of the sky
A loosely coiled rope, tied tight to this dope
He believes with a lunge he can fly.
A man-child pedaling his bicycle hard
Scattering pedestrians from street to yard
He rides on his steed, satisfying the need
Of yahoos for their local news lard.
Chris, I cry weekly, where is your show?
They have removed the only haven where I can go,
The TV is crap, just shoved in your lap
As FOX heeds the siren song of
The fickle public velcroes its pockets tight
When confronted by Cabin Boy and the sight
Of Chris at sea, how stupid can they be?
Iíve seen it 12 times, this supposed blight.
Can this sad situation truly be the end
A bit part future for our TV friend?
I say letters we must write, we must vigilantly fight
And get Chrisís future on the mend!
I hope you all enjoy this