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!"
John Coopey
Sun 6th Nov 2011 20:02
Ah! I get it now!
I had to revisit the beginnibg again!