I apologize in advance for my poem rhyming.
I realize that modern poetry demands unrhythmic prose.
And thus, I’m not a good poet (yes, yes, yes, I know it)
Oh sweet April comes the draft
Oh please Bengals, don’t be daft
Make strong picks, that are not gaffed,
Like the 90’s, when others laughed.
We need a guard, and D-back,
In your thinking, don’t be slack.
We also need a running back
To don the Bengal ‘orange & black’.
If we merely draft by needs,
We’ll turn the team into weeds.
E’er this warning, please Benglas heed,
No first round reach for Isiah Pead.
With free agents, fill a hole.
Then draft the best available.
Thus fill the roster with talent full.
Oh here we come, oh Super Bowl!