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poor little rat

i was peacefully watching tele
involved in scotch
and quite a full belly


when from the kitchen rustlings came


i knew that there was no-one home
my flatmates errant
rage, rave and roam

so for rustlings someone else to blame

i crept up slow and took a look
there was a rat
intently chewing on my book

oh you rodent shame shame shame

the warrior within me woke
i grabbed a hefty stick

then that heathenous rat did poke

one mighty blow did smite it lame
poor little rat
wobbled and crawled
towards the door but that’s not that

now i must take a different tone

some remorse had found a home
within my breast once raging pure
now dwelled a feeling not unlike manure

I killed it dead
and without compunction
sent it sewerly ahead

I don’t like killing
but let the message be clear
only vermin right willing
to die
should enter here

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Sydney, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: The Romantics, The Mersey Sound, The Beats and, of course, The Bard

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Comments

B

barbsdad2003

18 years 10 months ago

Hey!

There's more than one dittology here. (As M. Stewart is wont to say, "That's a good thing.") As a TV ad might proclaim in print---to a limited audience, of course!---KWRAOU/TKO/TKPWUD/WERBG/FPLT Thanx, Chuckles