POETIC JUSTICE

The knocks came loud at half past four;

The wife woke from her sleep.

"You give that noisy pest what-for,

I hate the little creep"!

 

Her husband squinted at the clock

And rubbed his tired eyes;

He'd give that yob a nasty shock,

An unforseen surprise.

 

"What's your problem, son?" he cried,

Flinging back the door,

And quickly stopped in verbal stride

For outside stood The Law.

 

Confused by what they saw and heard,

They stared in consternation,

Then one said "Sir, we'd like a word,

You're owed an explanation.

 

There's something that you ought to know,

Your lad has been arrested;

When coming from a club just now,

Our patience he soon tested.

 

He might have got a warning

But for flattening our 'Super',

And later on this morning -

When he wakens from his stupor -

 

He'll be up before the magistrate

To answer for his folly,

And learn, though maybe much too late,

That prison's far from jolly.

 

We're sorry to disturb you, sir,

We wish we could do more."

"You can", replied the husband,

"The ratbag lives next door!"

 

justice

◄ RACE DAY

DO YOU REMEMBER MY ENGLAND? ►

Comments

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John Coopey

Sun 6th Nov 2011 20:02

Ah! I get it now!
I had to revisit the beginnibg again!

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M.C. Newberry

Sun 6th Nov 2011 00:39

Glad you enjoyed the pay-off, Stella.

stella jones

Sat 5th Nov 2011 20:11

Ha!...you had me there..Oh the joys of Youth.

:)

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