Snidely Being Nugatory

Dear Poets of the World,
   I am officially retiring the following rhyming scheme: lie / die / cry / try / fly / sigh / eye / rye / pie.
   That’s right. Nobody gets to use it anymore. It’s done . . . Over. It’s been beaten into the ground, buried, exhumed, hit with a stick, tossed, turned, baked, fried, stirred, shaken, and, generally . . . Just, you know, used a lot.
   So, in honour of this special occasion—this retiring—I will present to you, as a eulogy, the last, officially sanctioned and authorised poem to use this rhyming scheme.

A Poem For Your Eye . . . S

Look up! In the sky,
To you, I shan’t lie:
Oh my! ‘Tis a fly.

Forsooth! I must try,
In failure, I would cry,
Shoo! Away from my ham on rye.

“You,” I say, “Die!”
But, alas, with my sigh,
He lands . . . On my pie.