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Planet Earth
We had a planet, called it home,
We killed the trees to make our throne.
We let our poisons touch the water,
Killing father, mother, daughter.
Our putrid smoke made stale the air,
Our planet’s beauty now laid bare.
Animals, plants, their day has past,
The human race? I am the last.
Death of a Butler
“Call that toast, it’s burnt right through!
I think you know what you must do.”
“Yes, I know,” the butler said,
And shot himself clean through the head.
His brains exploded, quite a mess,
Splattered over Madame’s dress.
Sir looked at butler, “Oh my God!
Clean this up, you lazy sod.”
Butler smiling weakly said,
“Sorry, Sir, I’ll soon be dead.”
He grabbed a cloth, and though he tried,
His eyes glazed over, then he died.
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