There was once a council boy, who donned a balaclava,
who played a dirty trendy game: unwarranted palaver,
every single move he made, was exciting risk,
a tacky thieving tearaway, who loved to stop and frisk,
then down a gloom grim gitty, him and friends, did trod,
to spray their “street wise wisdom” on unlucky sod,
but then; that’s when it happened, impatience cancelled pride,
for outcast man, brought forth their end, with Colt.45!
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Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: August 29th, 2026 07:07
- Comment from author about the poem: I know this is very similar to the last one, but I have to re-submitt another. A short sad poetic story, about particular youths and their antics, whilst wearing a particular item of clothing, and seeing as they've become a rising nuisance in the UK yet again, this little poetic yarn goes out to those "cool kid knights" of the street, who enjoy speeding on their e-bike steeds; and are so very "brave" in hiding their shame behind a woollen helmet. This also goes out to those who have needlessly lost their lives in "service" of "just wars" in history, from the Crimean War, to modern day "necessary" religious conflicts. I hope that you take something from this, and if you can, enjoy it, and as always, let us become better, and please do stay safe in the madness everyone!
- Category: Sad
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
A fun read that ends with the final line. Well done
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