Mike
By malc
- 358 reads
Listen hard to this tale I pray
of a young lad who lived to spray
his name or some godawful scrawl
on every shed or gate or wall.
Graffiti Mike we'll call the lad
who described his daubing simply Baaad!
Unfortunate his youthful eye
lacked style and grace and symmetry.
Now Mike was scrawling late one night
down at the station out of sight
but in the darkness failed to heed
a warning sign which I shall read -
"Don't go on beyond this sign
or we shall charge a hefty fine
and for your life we will then fear
there's 100,000 Volts in here!"
Poor Mike knew nothing of the flash
that reduced him to a pile of ash.
His mum heard and she came to faint
when told all that's left was paint.
Though critics may argue - graffiti's art,
the moral of this tale in part
is simply - KEEP IT FOR YOUR HOME
NOT OURS OK - end of poem!
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