Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ipoetPoems
On the African savannah, The mission brief had been simple. Go in and find a Warthog. The Americans had gone in and nuked the place, Then claimed there had been none to begin with. The Israelis against strong, Local advice, Had sent in Mossad, Undercover. -why go in, looking like food, the lions had a field day- The Africans, however, Had not reported by nightfall, So at daybreak a search party was launched. They found three Kenyans surrounding a giraffe, Spread-eagled securely to an Acacia tree. The Sergeant-at-arms was taking notes, Whilst his Officers flogged, The poor thing screaming, “Confess you’re a Warthog, confess!”
0
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:42 AM UTC
The thing with torture
On the African savannah, The mission brief had been simple. Go in and find a Warthog. The Americans had gone in and nuked the place, Then claimed there had been none to begin with. The Israelis against strong, Local advice, Had sent in Mossad, Undercover. -why go in, looking like food, the lions had a field day- The Africans, however, Had not reported by nightfall, So at daybreak a search party was launched. They found three Kenyans surrounding a giraffe, Spread-eagled securely to an Acacia tree. The Sergeant-at-arms was taking notes, Whilst his Officers flogged, The poor thing screaming, “Confess you’re a Warthog, confess!”
ipoet
Written by
ipoet
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:42 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem