The Final Awnser Poem by Timothy Long

Lastly at last, here comes the blast, the task is to bask in the aura of the earth with a flask, the pain to sustain from drinking and games are quite Blaine with distain, the king and queen are like bee's who sit and rule while the commoners drool, 'we are hungry' they would say still hungry tist this day, from the food and crown of the town and die like a clown, with a distained frown, lastly at last, the message was sent to the king and queen of beverly tast