Yes, I am aware there’s a big thing for poetry, and I used to write it.
Yes, I’m knocking out a brief one here. I can’t sleep for some reason. Sucks, but gotta do something!
Stu was born with golden hair
Impressive, there was none to compare
To his shining locks and youthful face
Which entranced the people of the human race.
Stu was funny, charming, bright and clever
A daring presence on TV or Radio
And everyone just loved his wit
On every topic that they could suggest.
They held him high, proclaimed him King,
Nothing wrong it seemed could be done by him.
Stu enjoyed his fortune and fame,
Spent it wildly, without shame.
No-one dared to criticise
As his personal life was aired Primetime
To all who wanted to see Stu,
Because he was daring. And he was new.
But then came people who did feel
That being Stu might just appeal
And grab attention for their cause
And get the public through their doors.
They sat down each and every one
And tried to think how it could be done,
And then they had the bright idea
To act and look like the man they feared.
And so they did, the world stood to see
Stu’s Two and Three, up to Thirty
All shouting, crying for attention
Proclaiming THEY were the new salvation.
Stu was nothing but a fraud
They claimed, but still he was adored.
The people looked upon these clones
As if they were just mindless drones
Content with peddling their wares
On the back of Stu and his lustrous hair.
Who cares that Stu was off the rails?
He’d stole their hearts,
Nothing much left for sale.
Stu’s Four and Six were the first to starve,
Ignored, a niche could not be carved
In the face of such a shining star
Who was loved by all, but from afar.
As Stu was aging fast himself
And worried one day he’d be shelved
For someone younger and more astute
Than he, once King without dispute.
He carried on, a fortune made
As others spent like in old arcades
In beating him. But he grew old.
And so, it seems, did everyone else.
But Stu was first; upon demise
A statue was raised. To our surprise
Stu’s Two through Thirty ran away,
But they came back another day.
Now the King was a man called Dan
Who had it seems a golden tan
That everyone just loved to see
And wanted to just be near.
And the Stu’s who left they came again,
This time they came with a lustrous tan.
But no-one else really gave a damn.
They had their king.
His name was Dan.