Laurie the Lion

I climbed into his cage
to read him poetry.

For Laurie was a lion
inclined to artistry.

He listened for a while
and didn't seemed perturbed.

That is, until in one of them
I used a naughty word.

Laurie snarled, his hackles rose,
about that word I'd read.

He came toward me fangs ablaze,
and then bit off my head. 

Of course I died a gory mess
in sad and sorry state.

And thus became, in death, that is,
a poet Laurie ate.