Author's Note: I'm trying to write this in the same general meter used by Poe in his immortal "The Raven."

Quoth Our Raven
by Cyborg
(with all due apologies to Edgar Allan Poe)

Once around the midnight hour, as I labored in the Tower,
To repair the broken shower in a leaky bathroom stall;
While I worked with wrench and hammer, suddenly there came a clamor—
I knew it for Beast Boy's yammer, as he paced out in the hall.
"'Tis just the grass stain," I muttered, "talking nonsense in the hall—
Only this, and that is all!"

Ah, distinct my recollection, as I sealed a new connection
I heard him voice his affection for she who had his heart in thrall.
(She was our most creepy member, cold in June as in December;
Once made Doctor Light a trembler; I swear I heard him squall.
She enshrouded him in darkness till like a baby he did squall!
We all saw him cringe and bawl.)

"Sure," thought I, "he's just rehearsing, ere he tries with her conversing,
And then will he require nursing when her reply makes his face fall?
When she breaks his poor heart in half; perhaps she'll sneer, perhaps she'll laugh
At his most monumental gaffe, when at last he confesses all?
Confesses that he loves her true, not just now but for the long haul?
Will he sulk or will he bawl?"

"Raven, please," I now heard him sigh, "Let us give it an honest try;
Surely this thing of 'I don't need a social life' must someday pall?
May I escort you to the dance, there to waltz and there to prance;
Is there at least a little chance that you'll be my date, you doll?
To spin around the floor and perhaps enjoy the Costume Ball?"
Quoth our Raven: "Not at all."

Her voice left me dumb with wonder—at last he had dared confront her?—
"Found the nerve to try, by thunder!" I mused within that shower stall.
"To tell her plainly to her face that he yearns to her embrace,
'Cause in his heart she takes first place as the fairest of them all!
And now he's begging for a date—I wonder if perhaps he'll crawl
To coax her to dare the Ball?"

This I had to see quite clearly—from their voices, they were nearly
Right outside the bathroom where I lurked within the shower stall.
Eager now, I sought one gadget to make a hole (yes, I'd patch it!)—
Though I knew I'd really catch it if they heard me use the awl,
Carefully I pressed it forward and quiet as a fly's footfall
Poked a hole through the drywall!

(To be continued—this is approximately one-third of the complete poem, although the rest is still a rough draft at the moment. Let me know if this first installment actually amuses you, please!)