The Midget Angel On The Battlefield of Doom
The dreadful battlefield lay still and wan,
Wind whistling through the shell-torn trees;
And the deathly scene echoed to the groans
Of wounded, sobbing, bleeding, dying men.
But, as out of a magic dream, a vision appeared:
A midget Angel riding on a donkey's back
All neatly dressed in schoolgirl clothes
With a little halo hovering o'er her head;
She wandered, lovely as a dwarfish cloud,
Dismounting here and there to give comfort
And a bit of head to the maimed and crippled.
"Oy, I'm over here" a one-legged soldier bravely yelled,
Desperate for a final glorious blowjob;
Normally he wouldn't have given a fat ugly dwarf
A second look, but beggars can't be choosers.
Poetry by Edna Sweetlove
Read 968 times
Written on 2006-10-10 at 18:35
Tags Death  Love  Sex
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English War Veteran aged 98