There once was a poet named Hind
Who said, “the best is all behind!
My once great verse
It grows steadily worse!
And the critics all kick my behind!”.
There once was a poet named Hind
Who said, “the best is all behind!
My once great verse
It grows steadily worse!
And the critics all kick my behind!”.
Their youthful passion unlocks.
She loses shoes and frock.
Then the vicar knocks …!
A young lady known as Miss Ice
Has a reputation for not being nice.
Her real name is Coral
And she’s so very immoral!
But to me she’s always been nice …!
I met a group of young women
Who spoke of the joys of sinning.
But I, being shy
Hid in a pie
With the beautiful and talented Miss Winning!
When I met a young lady of Kampala
Who said, “I worked in a massage parlour”.
And I said, “but Coral!
You are so very moral!”.
She said, “they sacked me from that parlour …!”
When a rude and unfeeling young lad
Said, “your poems are so very bad!”.
I wept full sore
And said, “tell me more!”,
As I soundly thrashed that lad!
When Rose took all her clothes off
The dear old vicar began to cough.
The weather being cold
Rose was most bold!
And the vicar he developed a cough …!
When a young man named Dave
Decided to shave on a grave,
And a ghastly ghoul
Called him a fool,
He gave that knave a shave!
When Kafka went and wrote The Trial
They said, “there can be no denial
That this book is strange
And the characters quite deranged!
And this novel is called The Trial!”.
As we drove fast round a very tight bend
A young lady said, “lets pretend I’m your girlfriend!”.
I said, “in this sports car
You and I will go far!”,
She said, “remember that this is only pretend!”