The fruits of my creative labour

By: James Greenfield
Competition Year: 2013
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How cruel, it is to say,
In fact, it's really not ok.
That a scientist, can't dance and shout,
Nay make a rhyme, or sing with clout.

How dare they say, that my baritone,
Sounds more like, a squashed saxophone.
And even my elegant, pirouette,
Is more flailing, but better yet...

How insensitive, they must be,
That they simply, just fail to see.
The fruits of my, creative labour,
Are in fact just me, with a lightsaber.

And so I, propose the motion,
The quite dramatic, resolution.
While I cannot sing, or dance too,
I can at least string, a rhyme or two.
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