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A poem for the imminent demise of The Simpsons by Neil M. - St. Marguerite d’Youville
The lights would dim, and the family would gather,
To watch the antics of Bart and his father.
North America’s favourite family would air,
And not a soul could unfix their stare.
Ratings were high, and the series impressed
Those of its day. The show was the best.
To bathe in the glow of Matt Groening goodness,
By all standards, The Simpsons were cleverest.
Lisa would spin her smart remarks,
While Homer’d lose it, and strangle Bart.
With each minute, a laugh would ensue,
And to the fans, The Simpsons stayed true.
But lately, there’s been something wrong,
The laughs just seem to be all gone.
It appears that Homer has lost his charm,
And Bart has lost his prankster’s arm.
We’re tired of waiting for Maggie’s first words,
And Marge, your character’s becoming less preferred.
Lisa ceases to know what’s best,
And there’s a desperate reach for special guests.
Sorry Matt, but it may be over.
To death, The Simpsons can’t be closer.
Still week after week, they bring new chapters,
And week after week they get less laughter.
It’s time to end this Melodrama,
Matt should of stuck with Futurama.
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