Sad Limericks

Some years ago, a colleague challenged me to write a sad limerick.  "Write about your old dog dieing or something", he said.  He claimed it couldn't be done.  Like the time someone challenged me to write a poem that used "noodle" as a rhyme, I tend to get the bit in my teeth, refuse to admit defeat.  Turns out that we have some sort of cultural preprogramming connected with this form.  It proved to be supremely difficult, even to think of an idea.  Warning; Since I "succeeded" (in spades), you might not want to read this, particularly the Last Try.



First Try

A politician expounding his views
Received some terrible news.
He'd a tumor in his head.
His old dog was dead
And worse, the polls said he'd lose.


Second Try

There was an odd fellow named Nick
Who'd an idea extraordinarily sick.
He tried and he tried
Until one day he died
Of trying to write a sad limerick.


Last Try

A woman lived a lifetime alone.
In poverty she always did groan.
She sighed and she cried
Until one day she died
Of hunger, in agony, completely unknown.