The Poet told The Painter
The Potter was the Father
of the Widows Daughter
The Painter laughed
scratched his head and said
"Oh Well! "
I guess the Widows Dead"
that Old Hag told me I was The Dad
all the time the Girl wasn't mines
all the while Supporting the Child
on a Painters Paycheck
the Blatant Disrespect
haven't Written a Poem in a while
raising a brow
The Poet smiled
picked up a pen
with a fiendish grin
The Poet Wrote
The Poet told the Painter
The Potter was The Father
of The Widows Daughter