The Ballad of Michael Moore

A poem I wrote back in high school. (Not the real Michael Moore, nor is it meant to allude to him in any way, the name fit the rhythm when I wrote it.)

‘Twas fifteen years ago or more,
Was in the springtime, sure,
A young boy left a little town,
His name was Michael Moore.

He journeyed on for ten long months,
‘Till found he a new home,
Among new friends he found a place,
That he could make his own.

He stayed among his new friends now,
‘Till unknown thoughts took hold,
Then one shadowy night he left,
He said, to save one old.

Amid the trees he made a place,
Where he could live in peace,
He stays now in the ancient woods,
Spending his life with beasts.

Not one has seen him since that day,
Some say that he still lives,
And guards the forest with his life,
Kills men who’d cut its limbs.

Many men say that he has died,
But that his spirit stays,
Haunting the woods throughout the world,
Those with foul hearts he slays.

So when you’re in the forest child,
Fear not if your heart’s pure,
But if impure thoughts cross your mind,
Beware of Michael Moore.

Reviews

[Eric Kaun]

That was very good, and it flowed nicely. I'd recommend a comma between forest and child in the last part, but thats just me.

[Dms]

Ha, awesome. Micheal Moore. I loved the urban-legend-camp-fire-feel you lent to this piece. I really liked the beat in the beginning with eight syllables then six, then eight, then six, but I was a bit thrown off when it wasn't there in other places. I know it's already good, but I think it would flow better as a rhyming piece if you kept up a sort of tempo like that. It would also make it easy to memorize for my next opportunity to scare children around the camp fire.

Very cool though. You continue to impress me with your work, and your insights.