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You think you're clever,
mocking me?
Think you're so dammed subtle; that I can't see?
Because you believe you're superior
Cool and intelligent,
But to me your delusions are hardly relevant.
An ode to all to all trolls.
It’s Sunday dinner and I’m in the queue,
already bloated after a pint or two.
The queue moves forward and I’m finally here!
I think I’m gonna make myself sick, I fear!
With five types of spuds and four kinds of meat
I’m gonna get bloated right down to my feet!
I load up on sprouts and Yorkshire puds too.
I paid good money for this, so I think I’ll have two.
The plate’s ready to break so I head for my table,
but it’s so ******* heavy that I’m barely able!
Huffing and puffing, I get to my chair
and don’t waste a second; just dive right in there!
I eat and I eat, ‘till I think I could burst,
but I’ve gotta keep going and get my money’s worth.
I stuff myself silly, and I’m SO full of food!
Oh, ****! Need the toilet! But I don’t think I can move!
The British People are a greedy lot
It’s Sunday dinner and I’m in the queue,
already bloated after a pint or two.
The queue moves forward and I’m finally here!
I think I’m gonna make myself sick, I fear!
With five types of spuds and four kinds of meat
I’m gonna get bloated right down to my feet!
I load up on sprouts and Yorkshire puds too.
I paid good money for this, so I think I’ll have two.
The plate’s ready to break so I head for my table,
but it’s so ******* heavy that I’m barely able!
Huffing and puffing, I get to my chair
and don’t waste a second; just dive right in there!
I eat and I eat, ‘till I think I could burst,
but I’ve gotta keep going and get my money’s worth.
I stuff myself silly, and I’m SO full of food!
Oh, ****! Need the toilet! But I don’t think I can move!
The British People are a greedy lot
Your sneers turn to laughter,
adding torment for free.
You share a never ending tirade
of abuse that is Hellish to me.
I live for a moment of love and respect,
but your cruelty continues, with your mockery
and my please you reject.
It wouldn't hurt if you didn't care.
The strangest geezer in town
Was this bloke who hated brown.
He never stepped on any dirt,
Or got gravy stains on his shirt.
He couldn’t drink any beer or bitters
And couldn’t look down the loo when he had squitters.
The only friends he could make were clowns,
‘Cause those freaky ******* never wear brown!
Hatred of a colour? Where's the sense in that?
For those so narrow minded bigots
here is a small chance
to show us freaks and us weirdoes
a little tolerance.
We are perhaps too strange and too foreign
to fit your world view
and perhaps, perversely, too loving
to tolerate you!
Leavesley

“Come and smell my smelly socks!
Come, children, gather round!
When I push them up your nose,
they’ll make a squishing sound!
Come closer, children, and sniff deep
that stink of cheese, and a week dead sheep!
And feel that texture- moist, but rough;
just like your mom, they’re strong, but tough,
and you’ll black-out when you’ve had enough
of my smelly feet!”

— The End —