A parody of a popular limerick. I've tried to expand the story a bit. |
The Misfortunate Man of Leeds (aged between 20 and 25) By Richard Paul On the furthermost outskirts of Leeds, There was a young man named Jim, Who possessed six packets of seeds. He had naught in his wallet but pennies And his feasts of late had been slim, So he devoured these aforementioned seeds. He retired then to his bed of reeds, Though sleep was denied to him By a beastly disease of wheezes and sneezes. Misfortunate was this poor man of Leeds, This man with no eyebrows, called Jim. For Ill fated was he by his seed eating deeds. For take root did these varied seeds In the lower intestine. The Resident ringworm were unhappy indeed. Blades of grass did cover Jim’s knees. A sunflower dwelt within. And around his nethers were prickliest weeds, Where ne’er such weeds should be. The End. For disclaimer purposes I shall state that the original limerick which this poem is based on does not belong to me. I'm not actually sure it belongs to anyone, there seem to be about fifty different versions. Oh well, hope you enjoyed this small piece of foolery. |