...bit the proverbial dust
came crashing down like
a mighty tree in a gust
lay there without a sound

couldn't take it...I fussed
tried hard to cuss
but the words had
vanished to rust

I should be nonplussed
I should be...it's just
it's now ruined my trust
can't think of the words that I lust
for...or those that I feel that I must
find to make my speech more august