no vodeo this time the poetry was packed making a nice change so ya just have to use eyes to read not ears to listen enjoy
The bitch left!
She’s out there you know running around,
God only knows what tramp she’s found,
And I’m chasing her to get her home,
She is not to be seen and I am all alone,
I’ll kill her, the filthy dirty ould tramp,
As it turns to dark and I fetch my lamp,
She was so good sat home on the chair,
And I looked lovingly as she sat right there,
But out she ran and away she went,
Leaving me alone to worry and rant,
If I find her I’ll kill her that’s the plan,
For no one would judge me no woman or man,
We even had a licence just herself and me,
And a happy twosome for the world to see,
We went everywhere as one little pair,
But soon as she could she was out of her chair,
What else can I do sit home and wait,
Perhaps I’ll hear the creaking of the gate,
And hope to god it’s her coming home,
So I no longer have to be on my own,
If I find her I’ll beat her that’s what I’ll do,
A slap in the arse with the heel of my shoe,
I will leave her for dead right on the floor,
That will teach her to run out the door,
There she is and look at that crowd,
I can hear her laughing her head out loud,
There are 3 of them chasing her now she needs help,
As we all meet together I grab her up with a yelp,
The thing you see is my bitch was in season,
And ran out the door so I lost all reason,
She’s home now and no she wasn’t beat,
But soon enough I think will be the patter of many feet,
05/07/2012
Confederate plot
It was on a Good Friday April 14th 1865,
Civil war was almost over it felt good to be alive,
A trip to ford’s theatre to watch our American cousin,
A stage full of actors the place was fairly buzzing,
Mary Todd was there sat beside her husband the president,
Happy as a couple as the attended this event,
At the intermission the bodyguard john parker left his post,
Headed to the nearby tavern for what he wanted most,
A drink with the footman and the coachman all stood at the bar,
Assignation plans put into place in the theatre not too far,
Up the stairs and down the corridor to the presidential box,
No bodyguard to stop him no need to pick the locks,
Having easily gained his entry to the outer room,
He wedged the outer door shut with the handle of a broom,
Through a hole in the inner wall he gazed upon his mark,
In the lane outside his horse tethered and was parked,
Creeping on his belly he slithered on the floor,
Put the gun to Abe’s head and the president would be no more,
Mary Todd left out a scream that her husband has been shot,
Henry Rathbone leaped to his feet to come to his chief’s aid,
But the assassin cut him deep as his escape he made,
Jumped from high his feet fell silent broke his leg upon the floor,
Panic fell within the hall as he hobbled out the door,
The man who held his horse got kicked right in his face,
Away into the night the assassin left that place,
The conspiracy now apparent the hunt for john Wilkes Booth,
While a country mourned a leader the army sought the truth,
He found a hideout in garrets farm close by Washington State,
Until he was surrounded union soldiers sealed his fate,
I will not be taken alive he said from his haven on the farm,
So they set the place on fire hoping to flush him from the barn,
A soldier named Boston Corbett had crept around the back,
As soon as Booth had made his move he shot him in the neck,
No more chasing no more hiding nowhere left to run,
John Wilkes Booth shot dead from the bullet of a union gun.
4-Jul-12
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