There was an old fellow named Wyatt
Who was shy, retiring, and quiet
One day he said
“I’ll draw Pan from my head
And allow Tank Girl to run riot.”
She is fast and she runs with no crowd
And she laughs; though sometimes she’s loud
But she does it with pride
And you know down inside
Of this community she is rather proud
Look, oh my god, she’s a kook
She thinks fashion is steel toes and a nuke
But her traction for action
Could put your ass in traction
Hey, I rhymed this, now that is a fluke.
Some write novels, she polls about fish
If you say spoon, she’ll likely say dish
But she’ll always say “Hey”
Any time, night or day
Just to have fun because that is her wish
Remember Wyatt, the shy and retiring?
Who let Tank Girl go about rioting?
Ok, that’s name-dropping
Maybe I should have gone shopping
I was hoping for something more inspiring
You see rhyming has rules, that’s a fact
And meter is sometimes exact
While free verse just flows
Where ever it goes
But a limerick always brings you back.
So to Wyatt and all your Pan crew
A tip of the hat for all of you
You have made this place fun
And we’ve merely begun
I look forward to Pannaversary 42.
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