
- Paul Holbrook
Headless
Monday, 30 November 2015
Headless
A funny thing happened today
As I set forth without delay
I met a man without a head
He had one once but now he’s dead
He strolled quite headless down the street
With swaying arms and stumbling feet
The people screamed, the people cried
‘Why hasn’t this poor bugger died?’
He staggered on, neck spraying blood
Until he landed with a thud
The passers by ran to his aid
And instantly with blood were sprayed
They pressed the wound to stop the bleeding
(Although a head he was so needing)
But with a twitch the body died
So then the blood spray did subside
‘However did he lose his nut?’
‘Where did it land, when it was cut?’
But no lost head was ever found
And headless he was put in ground
The mystery of headless bloke
Has turned into a tale, a joke
But I know where the noggin went
I know what caused this strange event
The head it now wears a big smile
It’s worn it now for quite a while
As I write down my silly verse
I often stop to talk, converse
With my pet head, sat on my desk
Though some may think it quite grotesque
I somehow think he’s lonely though
And no head should be full of woe
I hate to see my head in sorrow
I’ll get another one tomorrow
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