In mid-evil times there once was a writer
Who was brilliant with words but not much of a fighter
He'd write sarcastic poems that he'd post on a tree
Making fun of the village for the whole village to see
Local Knights were a subject that he'd address
Turns out Sir Knight Mackillya wasn't that impressed
So he mounted his horse seeking to end the laughter
Set out on mission to write this writer's final chapter
He found him under the tree, then the knight said
I hope you're writing your eulogy, you're about to be dead
The knight drew his sword, the writer let out a wince
And held up his pen as his only defense
It did no good the knight lopped off his head
The knight rode away, the writer lay dead
Now the moral of the story, the point It's displaying
The pen's not mightier than the sword, that's just a saying
Matt Haught