In Jaipur, there was an old stepwell.
On the knees, it played all sorts of hell.
Its look was quite scenic,
but made phobics anemic.
One misstep and say, "Fare-thee-well!"
There was a Zoo where the creatures were plastic.
Said the new guy, "I don't mean to be drastic,
but since our beasts aren't real,
let's lose the cages of steel,
we'll have the first petting zoo lion -- it'll be fantastic!"
There once was a skilled maker of sweets
whose buyers would line up down the street.
He was just bones and skin.
"How are you so thin?"
asked a man buying boxes of the treats.
Rain is coming.
I can smell its sweet whiff on the breeze.
A storm prowls out there
beyond my eyes power to see.
But dark clouds hunker in the fore:
the storm's vanguard.
The birds know it's coming.
They've vacated the skies
to...
I know not where.
There was a reporter named Nellie Bly:
decided she'd give the asylum a try.
'Twas just for a story.
Doctors lost all glory
when they couldn't tell a nut from a spy.
There once was a YouTube Influencer
who always ran afoul of the censor.
Her most common wrong
was stealing pop songs,
but redacting wardrobe malfunctions incensed her.