I am going to add from memory. A poem from an old ‘MAD’ paperback from the 1960s.
“Death to thee, my little fellow!
Fink and creep with stripe of yellow.
The guys you finked on have the urge
to sing and shout your funeral dirge.
In the bay, you should have went.
Neatly wrapped in wet cement.
Seeing you, it makes me sick to think.
That I was once a Yellow Fink!”
Jack.
A+++
I loved Alfred E. Newman and company.