The Man's Machine Poem by Chaarzarul Rockett

There once was a man who built a machine.
It made plenty of food and kept everything clean.
The man was so happy he had nothing to do,
so he threw fancy parties with all the who's who.

The company was fancy, the company was gay.
They drank and they ate and they danced all day.
Well, they drank, and they ate, and they danced til they fell
And in the land of the machine, all worries were well.

For the machine to keep running it only needed fuel
and the fuel which it needed came from a pool.
And the pool which was full, was now looking low
How to keep the gadget running, the man didn't know.

He asked if he should stop the gay celebrations,
but his friends all claimed they would end their relations.
So, the parties continued with mirth and with cheer
but the man knew that one day, the end would be near.

And, sure enough, the pool did run out
but the man didn't scream and the man didn't shout.
His friends, on the other hand, made quite a scene.
They hung the poor man, and destroyed his machine.

So, if you are thinking of ways to be gay
remember the man who's machine let him play.
When the crops are all plenty, the work is all blessed,
but when the corn isn't growing, it's usually a mess.