A little Christmas poem for you all.

Oliver Twat

It was Christmas Eve in the poor house,
And the orphans were standing round
Some had fainted from starvation
And lay sobbing on the ground.
In strode the big fat Beadle
To sneer at the lads and lasses
And anyone who caught his eye
Got kicked in their skinny arses.

"What d'you want for Christmas, kids,"
He bellowed with a grin.
"Give us food, give us food,
We're nearly all done in!"
The servants set a huge meal out,
Roasted turkey and mince pies,
And the Beadle ate the bloody lot
Right before their hungry eyes.

Oliver Twat was very bold
And showed great gallantry;
Holding out his begging bowl he said,
"What about some grub for me?"
The Beadle stared and then declared,
"Your cheek is past all belief,"
And with a mighty murderous blow
Smashed the kid's front teeth.

That Christmas Eve in the poor house
Oliver fell to the ground;
He twitched and moaned and gurgled
Then lay there without a sound.
The servants dragged the body out
And the kiddies wept in sorrow
Until the Beadle told them all
There'd be nice meat pies tomorrow.

Poetry by Edna Sweetlove
Read 929 times
Written on 2006-12-06 at 17:41

Tags Christmas  Orphans  Humour 

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Zoya Zaidi
Macabre! But there is this humane angle in it despite the black humour in the last line... yes, cruelty to children is unpardonable; they are so vulnerable and gullible!
(((Hugs dear Edna)))
Love, Zoya

I like it, sad but true. Funny, becuase its not true but sad becuase of the truth in the symbolism