Fly Tippers
There are grubby buggers, I’ll be bound
Leaving their rubbish and filth around
Beside my fence, on the road edge no less
They left behind them a disgusting mess
Of beer bottles brown, there were but six
Plus six Jack Daniels, with cola mixed
A floppy old condom, its packet of blue
Yards of white paper designed for the loo
And yesterday’s meal left all in a dump
Fast-food packets, screwed in a clump
The order of business? Well I’m perplexed
But it’s good to see, they practiced safe
sex
I picked up the bottles, and covered the
rest
My curse upon those who left such a mess
No comments:
Post a Comment