Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.15.158.138

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

[FLUSH =  Fearless League of Unlikely Super Heroes]
                             ______________

A communique received today from one Nicholas Saint
Said that he had misbehaved, an honest chap he ain’t
He thought that he could ruin FLUSH by framing their inventor
And destroy the kudos of an old saloon frequenter

He sees the error of his ways and now must tell the truth
For nobody, except for fate pushed Santa off the roof
He tried to frame the Mayor, you see, with evidence that’s fake
And getting Mister Flood sent down? The icing on the cake

But then Ms Logan got involved, she owns the best saloon
He likes a brandy everyday, he’s always there at noon
See, Santa battled justice using methods out of hand
But he won’t fight Ms Logan for he fears he might be banned

It’s time, he says, to tell the truth, for we deserve to know
What took place upon that roof, it’s quite a tale of woe
For Mrs Jones at number three was so scantily clad
Her curtains were wide open, oh, what a view he had

He couldn’t help what he could see but hoped he would see more
And then she dropped her nightie… for the wife from number four
But when they looked right up at him he tried a quick step back
He didn’t jump off on a whim, he slipped… but what went crack?

To his shame he’d been ‘excited’ he asks that you don’t scoff
He’d landed on his front, you see, and broke his manhood off
So now if you should hear him speak, his tone no longer low
His big gruff voice is now a squeak; he’s lost his Ho Ho Ho!

He had to frame somebody else because where he comes from
You cannot work with little elves when you’re a peeping Tom

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required