The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck

The boy stood on the burning deck:
his tears flowed for yards.
At length he shouted “flipping heck!
“Who’s torched my playing cards?”

‘Twas I young man!” cried Uncle Dick
“My action caused your woes,
“and if you don’t move pretty quick
“the flames will scorch your toes.”

“Why did you do so cruel a deed?”
the boy asked, jumping high,
“for playing cards I have great need.
And so I ask you: why?”

“You know full well you little swine!”
his uncle cried with ire.
“‘Twill do you little good to whine,
“like a doggie funeral choir!”

“Remember how we played that game,
“that night long game of poker?
“and how you beat me, to my shame?
“it really was a choker!”

“But Uncle!” cried the little lad,
“I beat you fair and square!
“It’s not my fault you play so bad.
“There’s no need to go spare!”

“’Go spare’ you say, you little tyke!”
Old Dick replied with passion
“When you played aces just like
“they were going out of fashion!”

“You took from me my home, my gold.
“You took from me my dotcom.
“You only could have had me cold
“by dealing from the bottom!”

‘Twas now the youth’s turn to go wild
at his uncle’s accusation.
Most of the time he was quite mild,
but this was the exception.

He pouted and he ranted
He shook his podgy fist
“You nasty man!” he panted
He fired his gun, but missed.

Old Uncle Dick got scared then,
took to his heels and ran.
He’d scarce got out the door when
He came up with a new plan.

He remembered his new shotgun
Still lying in his room.
By the time that he had got done,
he would seal his nephew’s doom

But the young boy he was quicker
Even though he was just seven
Old Dick just saw a flicker
and was on his way to heaven.

So friend always remember
When you’ve lost a game of chance.
Better to be a good loser
than a good meal for the plants.