I heard a singer improvise rap
And thought, we poets could do that
Fine minds did that in ancient times
Shout for the deaf, paint for the blind
A paid scribe wrote lovers' letters
Wrote praise of the loved, and sender
Instantly made each thought bettet
Helped urgent borrower, or lender
Even the stupid improvise
When caught out, quickly make up lies
In places where the old folk meet
Alzheimer's use rhymes, and repeat
I do not need to sing in tune
I'll get away with moon and June
I do not need to make a band
All that I ask is clap your hands.
-ends-
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