This rhyme scheme has most likely been used somewhere before (haven’t they all?), but unless I’m channeling some poet long dead, this one is original with me.
There was a young man from old Surrey,
Who got in great haste, and a hurry,
His house was all warm, but he left in the storm,
To death he did freeze in the flurry.
Is there a lesson here? Haste makes waste? Impetuousness of youth? Wear your scarf and galoshes?
BTW, I did a number of limericks on the site a while back. Check them out.