Vice Versa

There once was a man who wrote verse.

He could have done many things worse.

Like spending his nights at the bar,

Or learning electric guitar,

Like selling his soul to the Devil, 

Or naming his only son "Neville",

Or writing a book deemed obscene,

Or forgetting to curtsey the Queen.

Or murder, or mayhem, or arson,

Or reading aloud from Stieg Larsson.

So forgive his poetical crimes,

His thumpety rhythms and rhymes -

If you’re thinking it once, think it twice,

Before calling such verses a vice.