A blog called Furious Horses
Was thought up by curious forces
To publicly practice
A writer who’d lacked this
Released all his words, and his pauses
Before the first month was yet written
The writer, with false fame, was smitten
Although it was wrong
He bought a dot.com
His ego, now baited, had bitten.
Despite literary pretension
What most readers made sure to mention
Was that far from impressed
They liked humour the best
Not metaphors craving attention.
When ideas offered resistance
The writer called in some assistance
From the Lifters of Brow
Who delivered in creative shipments.
So here is the final blog post
One more important than most
After one year of writing
Some things are exciting
But unfortunately not the last sentence.