A Lesson of Honesty

A boy was sitting in a pitch black pit
And found himself next to a first aid kit
“Where am I?” he thought,
And found himself a bit short
For the lack of information

He tried to look outside of the hole
When suddenly he was charged by a mole
“What has gone into your mind, crashing into me like that?” he spat.
At the creature that looked like an oversized rat.
“Oh I am sorry,” the mole started off.
“You see I have got this terrible cough!”
And the boy asked what that had to do with his eyes,
He said he was blind, but the boy could see through his lies,
That mole had attacked him for a reason.

“Spit it out!” he spat again,
But his persuasion was in vain,
“Never!” Screeched the pesky, little mole.
As it fled towards a tiny little hole.
But he did not expect,
That the boy had a very good reflex,
From years of practicing “Wack-A-Mole”

The boy dragged him back and wrapped him in,
Some bandages found in the kit made of tin.
He was ready to speak,
The boy sure he would leak,
Some highly exciting information

“I work for a man that has a black leather jacket,
And he also possesses a magical racket,
He told me he wanted you dead as a sheep,
And I said I could do it, but it would not be cheap,
And so I went out to look for a boy,
That supposedly had stolen his most precious toy,
And hence I found you, and pushed you in the pit,
And that tells you why it is here that you sit.”

“So where is the toy?” Asked the mischievous one,
“Gone,” said the mole, “buried under a ton!”
“Of rocks and rubble and other heavy things,
Lays the precious set of toy magic rings.”

The boy felt bad for what he had done,
Yes, for he had not been a very good son.
Now he had realised what he did,
“Oh I have been such a terrible kid,”
He ran to the rubble of rocks and debris,
And threw it all around till the rings were free,
But the rings were broken beyond repair,
And immediately the boy gasped out of despair.
“What am I to do, what am I to do?”
And did something normally done on a loo.

It was at that point that the boy woke up,
And broke his father’s coffee cup,
It was not his fault, for he had been scared,
Jumping as he snapped out of his nightmare.
At first the boy planned to cover the damage
But thought it would make his dad more savage.
So he went and told him all about it.

The boy was surprised as the confession went on,
When his father said, “You’re a mighty good son,
For you are honest and kind at heart.”