The joys of a young boy are simply cruel
The joys of a young boy are simply cruel
They'll take living things in matchboxes school.
To give you a slightly squeamish example!
I once squeezed a tiny frog into one.
Oh the silent anemic guilt I felt - when
A front limb lay detached like a tale.
Still yet worse; I once watched a young man
In a shared B&B boarding house
He managed somehow to catch, lighting fast
A Little grey half-starved house mouse
He put it into one. And then he stamped on
It…
Oh the joys of young boys are simply cruel
How glad am I, I never attended his school.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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