Quoth the Blogger, "Hatesitmore!"

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I slept half-naked and weary,

Over many a carbo-loaded dinner I ate just until,

While I laid there, probably snoring, since TV that night was hella boring,

And then I heard this awful screeching, screening out my window sill,

"Tis some cats," I thought, "Humping outside my window sill,

They bang all day, yet want more still.

The the noise grew more distinct and telling,

By the break of dawn, I believed it more,

For I had heard it yesterday at a different hour,

It was a crow, perched high above once more,

A bird of black, irritating as before,

Quoth the blogger, "Hatesitmore!"

While I could not sleep with this awful yapping,

But his screeching continued, forevermore,

I devised a plan to engage his silence,

So that my ears could be relieved of sore,

To my balcony I retreated swiftly,

Grabbed some ice, I grabbed it tightly,

I tossed it at the bird, "Hatesitmore!"

And the crow, quickly puzzled, quickly fleeing, quickly fleeing,

From the lines outside my window sill, like the Raven of Poe's lore,

I crept back to sleep, eyes are heavy,

Wanting sleep more than ever before,

Thankful my ice worked on that bird from the lore,

Quoth the blogger, "Hatesitmore!"