The Unsightly Demise of Clarence Crisp

There was once a boy
Named Clarence Crisp
He had a super strong build
With a definite lisp.
He could floor all his friends
Outrun them too
But the lisp he had
How it turned him blue
He tried therapy and physio
Sign language and all
And those little voice simulators
(can't remember what they're called)
Nothing seemed to improve
His lack of speech
This glorifying goal
Was just out of reach
It was until one winter wednesday
A great day of woe
Our Clarence hung himself
out in the snow
His parents were stunned
Their lives filled with sorrow
How would they cope
With the next thousand tomorrows?
They held a short funeral
Laid flowers by his grave
Quaint shades of pink,
Magenta and Nave
There was once a boy
Named Clarence Crisp
He bore a tortured life
With a definite lisp.