Studying Poem

As I sit here in Gabby's room,
Wondering what I'm wondering,
I decide that I should be studying.
Studying hard for the exam.

A question!  Oh my!
Let's find the answer,
shall we?
Martin Luther!

A German man,
A mining family's son.
Kills his father's wishes,
And abandons the family trade.

To Rom!  To Rom!
All his friends shout!
Go there!
Go and cleanse yourself!

Disgusted by what he sees,
A response he decides to write.
More and more!  45!  65!  85! No!
95 Theses defy those Catholic priests!

What's that you say?
Another question?
Ok!  What next?
I could do this all day!

Protestant hater, though you are,
Your father, Henry VIII,
Still loves you!
Don't be emo, Mary Tudor!

The Black Death,
what a fright!
What were the two kinds?
Lets see...

There was, of course,
the pneuonic.
Spread through the air,
Don't breathe on me!

And then, don't forget,
the dreaded DEMONIC</b>!!
Kill the rats, I say!
What's that?  Oh...bubonic...

Spanish inquisition!  Oh dear!
Run away in fright!
Should they catch you,
You shall die under tourture!

The Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office,
Holds them in their hands.
Like puppets on strings
They obey their evil will.

Oh me.  Oh my.
Such studying kills my brain.
Enough of this nonsense!
I'm ready for the exam!!