Counting GamesFor the pessimistOne, two, nothing to doThree, four, can’t take any moreFive, six, I’m in a fixSeven, eight, ruled by fateNine, ten, I don’t know whenEleven, twelve, left on shelvesThirteen, fourteen, whole world’s so meanFifteen, sixteen, everything is obsceneSeventeen, eighteen, I’m a has-beenNineteen, twenty, all is empty.For the optimistOne, two, plenty to doThree, four, let’s go exploreFive, six, build those bricksSeven, eight, never…
PrejudiceRobin, a prejudiced sparrowHeld opinions, both racist and narrowThese views proved absurdWhen he spied a blackbirdThat Cupid had hit with his arrow.
Mother EarthStripped, scorched, choked, abusedPeeled, poisoned, pillaged, plunderedMurdered by degrees.
Ten Green (Plastic) BottlesTen world leaders, declaring nothing’s wrong.Nine politicians, stringing us along.Eight rare species, erased from planet blue.Seven rain forests, flattened in a coup.Six choking billions, breathing toxic waste.Five is the virus, which can not be erased.Four seas of plastic,poisoning our fish.Three million skeptics, living on a wish.Two sole survivors, clinging to a tree.One final chance now, got no planet B.
Family MattersMy son RoyIs two feet tallThis in a boyIs rather small.Daughter PearlHas great big earsWhich in a girlResults in tears.My dog BooThinks he’s a catHe hides his pooWell, fancy that.
Great ExpectationsWe had some Hard Timesreading David Copperfieldbut what the Dickens!
My Lucky Day Barely had a shower,Was coming down the stairsAn email in my inboxA man who says his prayersOverseas is dyingFrom some horrid diseaseNeeds to spend his fortuneAnd God had chosen me!Bank details were required,Well, that seemed fair enoughBut, before I give themI got some other stuff.Text, congratulationsHuge, my lottery winAmazing, reason I,I’ve not paid nothing in!Please confirm bank detailsOf course, well would…
The philandererFor the price of ten fags and a beerThe sailor had caught gonorrheaWhen his wife made advancesHe didn’t take chancesHe told her he’d got diarrhoea.
My sensitive sensesI have five sensesSo I’m toldWhich function lessAs I grow old.I’m deaf without myHearing aidsAnd use thick specsAs sight degrades.My taste relies onMy false teeth.For touch, my skullhas things beneath.These stop me shakingWhich leaves smellBest ask my wifeShe’s sure to tell.