I found a cape, a torch, and a harp,
but they weren't to my desire.
for the harp was a bow,
and the cape was a tarp,
and the torch was a log from the fire.

I found a sword, a shield, and a steed,
but for me they were no need.
for the sword was a stick,
and the shield a lid,
and the steed a horse-shaped weed.

Oh, pretending can be a horrible thing,
given my props and my whimsy.
For when I give chase,
I cannot mount my steed,
and my weapons I find are too flimsy.

When I came home as dirty as stone,
in want of a new directive,
I gave up the fight for props as a knight,
and decided to become a detective.

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Lupar, in the year 505 AF.