In Clue we each become detectives keen,
Through mansions, dark and shadowed, rooms unseen,
With candlesticks, or ropes, hints left behind,
We search for clues, a culprit’s trail to find.
Miss Scarlet’s footsteps silent in the night,
While Colonel Mustard’s alibi seems right,
Revolver waits, in study placed with care,
The Professor\'s whispers float through air.
With every turn, our guesses start to grow,
Illusions form, as evidence we know,
Was it in the ballroom with a knife?
Or billiard room, where secrets hold to life?
Together here, in mystery we dwell,
In Clue, we storytell, we weave a spell.