May I ask you a question?
What was the worst book ever written?
I want to mention it in my new novel, you see

Well, it’s tough to really say, you know,
For the worst book ever written
Has probably never been heard of
By none other than its writer and a poor unfortunate friend
Who just had to read it to the end
So as to retain the only friendship
That had been left intact throughout the years

Please forgive my railroad argument,
For I tend to get carried away,
Forgetting to take a breather

Now back to the argument let’s go

If I were that poor unfortunate soul myself,
I would not think it the worst book ever written,
For I would be happy to have been considered
By my uninspired friend,
So I would not be able to answer your question

There, isn’t this better?
Small and compact statements can cut to the point cleanly

So back to the argument let’s once again fare

The worst book ever written will probably not be remembered
By anyone who has read it,
Just as we don’t remember the worst experience we’ve tasted,
For it is too bad a memory to keep in salient preserve

In fact, the worst book ever written
Has surely never been published
And probably never been read by anyone other than its writer

So does that answer your question?

No, not really, no, for you are speaking of the worst book ever read
And not the worst book ever written

Then make one up, my inquisitive friend,
For an imaginary title will be as close as you can get
To the worst book ever written but never really read

And so I shall,
And I will name the book “The Worst Book Never Read,”
Based on “The Worst Book Ever Written,”
The worst poem I ever wrote and duly read