The Unicorn Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

And on the day
my son was born
they caught, in France
a unicorn.
They placed it on
the Guillotine
because the French
are always keen
to make a spectacle
of things
by chopping heads
off queens and kings.
But, with this little unicorn
they had the choice
to cut the horn
or, à la mode, take off the head
which would ensure
the beast is dead.
Two hundred judges
now discussed
while all the people
yelled in frust.
And in the end
with Gallic scorn
la liberté pour unicorn.