Lu-Mericks Poem by Joseph Oladehinde Ibikunle

There was an Old fellow of Detroit,
Who cheerfully rode on chariot.
He said, 'I need no Limousine
Nor its highly expensive gasolene
To traverse the whole of Detroit.'

There was a young lad of a countryside,
Who dozed off at a fireside.
He dreamt of hell;
He heard sinners' wail and yell.
And He never again slept at a fireside.

There was an old man named Fred,
Who, for no reason, said,
'I'm not scared of treason
Or to spend the rest in prison'
What an audacious old man called Fred.

There was a naughty pugilist,
Who fearlessly punched a herbalist.
He was conjured to punch a wall,
Till his knuckles fell in a sprawl.
And he never again dared an African herbalist.