Oh
But I would really like
I must really beg
To use your former wigg

Because mine was stolen you see
Now I walk around boldly
I say a bald beautiful lady
Just doesn’t look right to me

So give me your wigg
Hand it over quick
Or I will curse you
And you shall be sick!

In this heavy mallet
You can hear a clock tick
So hand over the wigg NOW!
Prick.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, January 17th, 2008 at 4:56 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.