| Category: || Humor Poetry |
Posted:|| January 3, 2019 Views: 132|
Why you should never make people jump
"My Uncle Jack (ENGLAND)"
It's always quite funny, a small harmless prank,
It's a game that we ALL like to do,
It's purely for jokes, like when Aunty Joan chokes,
As you jump out the dark with a "BOO!"
The effects are so funny, you cannot resist!
It's worth it to make yourself giggle,
When Nan's hair turns white, while shes frozen with fright,
And I think she has pee'd just a little...
But as with all things, this can come with a price,
Its a fact that is not known by most,
That in some extreme cases, the soul can switch places,
Sent screaming right out of its host!
I know this is true, for it happened to me!
And I wish I could take it all back,
As I sat by the gate, quietly, lying in wait,
For my victim, my old uncle Jack.
I loved uncle Jack, though if truth be told,
He was known for his quite pungent smell,
Either cabbage or sprout, or maybe sauerkraut?
To be honest, I couldn't quite tell.
Either way, it was rancid, but all that aside,
The one game we both loved to play,
Was to see who'd be crowned, the best scarer around,
And I'd prepped well to beat him that day!
So imagine my glee as I heard his approach,
My body was coiled like a snake,
Barely breathing, I crept...chose my moment and LEAPT!
Though I knew then and there my mistake...
For instead of a startle, a cuss word or two,
And the usual punch in the arm,
I was met with a stare, blank and white like Nan's hair,
And I could not contain my alarm.
He stood there before me, not moving an inch,
And since then, that's how he remains,
Sitting still in his chair, like he's not really there,
While I'm silently wracking my brains.
I just have to help him, the blame lies with me,
Though nobody else can be sure,
They assume he is ill, putting faith in a pill,
I won't stop till I find Jack a cure.
Then one fateful day, as I sat with dear Jack,
The News playing loud on the telly,
Not MY program of choice, but then came a voice,
And the words hit me right in the belly.
Outside Number 10, a young journalist stood,
Suited as smart as can be,
With fine presentation, he spoke to the nation,
....Yet I felt he speaking to ME!
"After speaking just now to the PM herself,
I'm afraid we still have our doubts,
One question remains, and it's burning our brains,
Why does the PM smell of sprouts??"
Oh no, this was bad... could it really be true?
I knew I just had to ask bluntly,
So I stared at old Jack, and he stared at me back
"Uncle Jack........are you running the country??"
No wonder the nation has gone to the dogs,
(A phrase that I heard from my dad),
With Jack running amok, in high heels and a frock,
And by gosh...his dance moves were BAD!!
Realizing the truth is just part of the tale,
As I stare at old Jack with a frown,
I must do one last scare, one beyond all compare,
But the PM is hard to pin down.
So many years passed, and a few arrests later,
I've finally found a solution,
I'm a journalist now, please DON'T ask me how,
But i'm days from a sure resolution.
So wish me good luck and I'm sure when he's back,
Jack will be the great man I remember,
If you're tempted to scare, it's not worth it, beware!
Well... not on a NICE family member.
This started out as a moralistic story for children, a humorous little poem about why you shouldn't make people jump...but then It became a lot longer and now I'm not sure what category to place it in...
and 2 member cents.
© Copyright 2016.
All rights reserved.
has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|You need to login or register to write reviews.|
It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
Interested in posting your own writing online? Click here to find out more.