Chops For Tea? Poem by Phil Soar
Chops For Tea?
I mistook him for the baker
When he knocked opon my door
But he held a butchers cleaver
And left my hands upon the floor
A local serial killer
He prayed on who ate meat
Before I could begin to run
He chopped off both my feet
I waited for the final cut
The one no-one could stop
But he took my hands and feet away
And made them into chops
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: humour
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5/18/2024 3:20:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
