I've spent some time with my new man
So I've been away for a while
What do I see when I come back
A pile of poetry that's oh so bad
The stink reaches right to heaven

Saint Peter there at Pearly Gates
Is forced to wear a gas mask
The smell so bad what can he do
His eyes are dripping water
'I'll go and see God' says he

Now God was not unaware
The smell had reached the throne room
'Lock the gates, don't let them in
We'll send them down to Satan
He can have the bloody lot, good riddance to them

Now Satan being a crafty lad
Didn't want the place so smelly
Sent Beelzebub amongst the lot
To pose as another poet
And set them all a new challenge

'This time we'll write' said he with a smirk
'A poem so good and holy
About angels and things all heavenly
And a prize for the best one written'

One by one they wrote their poems
And the smell slowly dissipated
Safe was hell from that awful smell
And the Devil went celebrating