Poem 33: The Growling From The Attic

play Splatoon. 

Revision shall be for later, 

Because I am a lazy alligator. 

 

I think I am done watching television, 

My stomach is rumbling, 

My mouth is mumbling, 

My mouth is dry, 

Feel like I'm gonna die. 

Haven't eaten in an hour, 

My stomach is as light as a flower, 

Should I take a shower? 

No, I'll feed myself first, 

Before the need for food, 

Becomes the worst. 

 

Packet of crisps? 

Pepsi? 

Pork Pie? 

The people on my neck, 

Are like wisps. 

One says Pork Pie, 

One says Pepsi, 

If I carry on, 

Being indecisive, 

I will suffer from narcolepsy! 
 

I swore I heard a creak from the attic, 

The television has turned static! 

I am not having food, 

I am now not in the mood. 

Heart pumping like I'm running, 

For this is horrifyingly stunning! 

I have found my pants no longer lightweight, 

I say to myself, 

"I think ya just s**t ya self, mate!" 
 

I approach the attic regardless, 

Of my sticky pants, 

I go to the attic, 

And see this enormous beast, 

If it wasn't for the hard wall behind me, 

When I came up to the attic, 

I'd have s**t myself to France! 

I wanted to tell my mum, 

My dad, my sister, 

But they had gone to parents evening, 

And my phone had ran out of credit, 

On top of that my battery died, 

I don't normally do this, 

But my big-a*s eyes cried and cried, 

What has just happened, 

Has not yet applied! 

 

I run downstairs as fast, 

As physically possible, 

I don't think this creature, 

Was cognoscible! 

And when they would come home, 

I would tell them,

They would not be convinced,

And I would remain scared...