I Had a Reason Not To Make a Rime

Oh, to read 'em now, those writings on the wall, poems, parodies of Poe and Pound, stuck there with jam, back then. Ah then! Carefree and footloose, students of literature and art! Life was so easy. we didn't care a bit. (I had a reason not to make a rime). Bob wrote fatuous lines about some man "who flitted from corner to corner of his misspent life" How apt. Back then! We mocked both Heaven and Hell! Then Bob's just broken-off engagement ring, melted down, drip-drip, till nought was left but some base alloy black and drab. Bob talked to some imp, (or was it Puck?) perched where walls and ceiling meet, He said he did, who cares that much. (I had a reason not to make a rime). We mocked life, now life mocks us. To read 'em now, those writings on the wall!