Walking home along the street
I met a man with cloven feet.
Staring at those mis-shaped toes
I bumped in to him, nose to nose.
“Oi!” he cried, “you stupid prat,
I’ve a mind to slug you, for that.”
I looked the fellow up and down,
All weedy limbs and surly frown,
And declared to him, “Do your worst,
I’ll squeeze your head until it bursts!”
The little man then laughed with glee,
“There’s more to me than you can see!
I was trying today to only do good…”
And he turned me into a slug, where I stood!
So if someone threatens to slug you,
As you’re walking down the street:
Before you slime off, feeling blue,
Deprived of the use of your feet…
The moral of this rhyming verse:
Check if they’re a boxer first.