Monorhymes can sometimes suck;
They get wrapped up in one-sound, stuck.
Aim at the writer; throw a puck
And keep your mouth shut; don’t yell “duck!”
Unless you’re more of a hardcore smuck,
Then drive right near them in your fancy truck,
Hold down the gas through the puddle muck
Until it splatters, covers, yuck!
Was that your friend? You must have pluck.
Or taking chances on a thing called luck.