shazzap
11-Nov-10, 12:42
Twas in the city centre
I had just stepped from my car
When three ruffians attacked me
In a manner most bizarre.
When finally the police arrived
They slowly looked around
“Are those your teeth? They match your stumps.
They are littering the ground”
So I was fined for littering
And told it was a shame
Twas folk like me who spoilt the town
And gave it a bad name
They noticed that I’d wet myself
In the terror of the defeat
And so I got another fine;
Urinating in the street!
As I stuggled to regain my feet
Surveying the blurry scene
A warden then approached my car
And ticketed the screen.
At this I said a naughty word
( From a classic Larkin line )
For outraging public decency
I got another fine.
At this point, seeking sympathy
I lifted up my vest
To reveal the six inch flick knife.
That was sticking in my chest.
The medic carefully pulled it out
As you will understand
But the constable said, accusingly,
“Knife crime’s getting out of hand!”
For possession of that weapon
I stood before the judge
The fact that it was not my knife
Just would not make him budge.
“The facts”, he said, “speak for themselves
The reasons can only be guessed.
But you were in possession.
It was sticking in your chest!”
Now in my lonely prison cell
Upon my fate I dote.
But cheer up Sidney, all’s not lost
At least you’ve got the vote!
I had just stepped from my car
When three ruffians attacked me
In a manner most bizarre.
When finally the police arrived
They slowly looked around
“Are those your teeth? They match your stumps.
They are littering the ground”
So I was fined for littering
And told it was a shame
Twas folk like me who spoilt the town
And gave it a bad name
They noticed that I’d wet myself
In the terror of the defeat
And so I got another fine;
Urinating in the street!
As I stuggled to regain my feet
Surveying the blurry scene
A warden then approached my car
And ticketed the screen.
At this I said a naughty word
( From a classic Larkin line )
For outraging public decency
I got another fine.
At this point, seeking sympathy
I lifted up my vest
To reveal the six inch flick knife.
That was sticking in my chest.
The medic carefully pulled it out
As you will understand
But the constable said, accusingly,
“Knife crime’s getting out of hand!”
For possession of that weapon
I stood before the judge
The fact that it was not my knife
Just would not make him budge.
“The facts”, he said, “speak for themselves
The reasons can only be guessed.
But you were in possession.
It was sticking in your chest!”
Now in my lonely prison cell
Upon my fate I dote.
But cheer up Sidney, all’s not lost
At least you’ve got the vote!