Third-class rhymes for Middle-class kids

PMS for kids: Ryan Lobo thinks that kids deserve the same fictions and facts that adults are entitled to. He found out quickly enough that this was easier said than done. Yes, the world is a beautiful, horrible, place. But can a storybook for children ever convey it all – the pathos, the pride, the sadness, the joy, the misery and the hope? And how much is too much?

 

 


Bodies in the Garden

 

Bodies In The Garden

There are bodies in the garden
Buried very deep
We found some the other day
When granny was asleep.

Mums and dads know of the corpses
That lie beneath our floors
They know about the urchins right outside our doors
They know about the torture in police cells everyday
“But everyone does it, what can we do?”
And there is nothing more to say.

 

 

Nobody’s Rat


Nobody’s Rat

One brown rat hopped in a suitcase
And flew across the seas
He thought he’d have better luck
Looking for some cheese.

If you’re ever at a carnival, ever at a fair,
Listen carefully to the dustbin, if you care
You might hear the strains of a sad old song
And find a little brown rat that doesn’t belong.

 

 

Santa Stew

Santa Stew

Santa had an horrible accident and ended up a snack at tea;
he went down one Christmas into the wrong chimney.
He dropped into a boiling vat of stew in his merry haste,
Poor Santa thought that it was an unused fireplace.
Oh my goodness! Big mistake he reckoned,
Then disintegrated into bits of stew in a second.

The reindeer had told Santa it was absolutely safe to go,
there was no fire, as they’d peeped and checked before.
Now why would the reindeer stew Santa to the bone?
They were just tired of pulling sleds and wanted their very own.

 

 

The Toilet Monster

 

The Toilet Monster

Sitting on the pot one day staring into space,
I thought I saw a peeping thing with a funny looking face.
I shuddered and looked down between my feet,
A gigantic cockroach? No, a baby monster behind the seat.

I swung at him with a toilet brush and fell flat on the toilet floor
(Try to swing a toilet brush with your pants about your toes)
Please don’t flush me, bash me, or break my monster bones,
he whimpered, Your mum dropped a hair drier in the flush,
he said in a voice that was muted,
And my family was instantly electrocuted.

I felt bad for the monster baby
I love my parents true
And if anything ever happened to them
I’d cry behind the toilet too.

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One Response to “Third-class rhymes for Middle-class kids”
  1. google adwords account 20 September 2014 at 8:54 am #

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