A/N: Probably the worst, most badly written poem in existance, but frankly, I don't care. I hope you all appreciate the countless seconds put into writing this fic, well, no, I tell a lie, the title took a while to come up with...
Disclaimer: I do not currently live in a reality when I own anything remotely phantom-orientated.
The untimely demise of a certain feindish fop
Raoul the fop
Has a head like a mop
Tried to kill Erik, which can't be done
Erik has his punjab lasoo
Fop's lost a shoe
They're in the dungeons, this should be fun
The chandelier's dropped
The stage's getting kinda hot
I'll leave you to guess who won...
A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed wasting your time on this poem, I shall see you soon (hopefully)
-Sammy