There was a young man named Sleary
Who advocated Marx’s theory.
When his ideas failed to come to fruition
He said “the people require more tuition,
For there is nothing wrong with the theory!”.
There was a young lady called Lou
Who fell into a vat of glue.
A handsome young doctor named Shane
Said “I share all your pain
For I am in love with you!”.
There was a young man named Meek
Who’s view of the world was bleak.
When I bought him a beer
He said “the world is so drear,
I shall drink for the rest of the week!”
There was a young authoress named Leigh
Who said “my writing shall survive me”.
She died one midnight drear
(Twas the middle of the year),
And was buried by critics three!
I found Venus in my bed.
Well that was her name she said
And I
Can not believe that a goddess would lie …
There was a young man from Pakistan
Who married a girl called Anne.
She was extremely pretty
And worked in the city
For a man by the name of Dan
Who
Left
Her shoe?
What should I do?
For a foot bereft
Of shoe
Is a sorrowful sight to view.
I grieve
As I perceive
That she lost her stocking
Too.
Tis a thing most shocking
To lose both stocking
And shoe …
There was a young man named More.
Who was extremely poor.
He wed an elderly billionaire
By the name of Claire.
It was her wealth he did adore!
I do not care
For this must
And dust
That thickens
The air.
The scent sickens
Me,
Yet I must
Agree
(as is so often foretold),
That we end our days in dust
And mould.
There was an elderly general named Lot
Who recovered from having been shot.
On returning to his plain, old wife
He remarked “upon my own dear life,
Would that he had been a better shot!”
K Morris - Poet 