The doctor’s had a heart attack,
The lollipop lady’s got RSI,
Couldn’t risk holding her wrist too slack
In case her stick got stolen by a passer-by.
Still, at least she’s better off than poor Doreen
Who got hit by a Ford Fiesta reversing around a corner;
Oh it was awful, you should have seen,
I wish we’d had time to warn her.
The butcher watched from his front door,
Helpless, he just muttered: “poor sod”,
But a secret part was intrigued by the gore –
He could be the new Sweeny Todd.
Repulsed such a thought had crossed his mind,
He returned to his shop from the street;
He questioned how he could be so vulgar, unkind,
While bludgeoning pieces of meat.
Copyright © Abi Morgan