This poem is not meant to be taken too literally. To be honest, I think I wrote most of it after reading Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and decided to try my hand at a similar kind of poetry. (Not saying I succeeded!) Bethany enjoyed this poem and encouraged me to finish it, so here it is! Oh, and it must be read with a Scottish accent – whether aloud or in your head. That is an absolute must. :D
The Rotten Lad
A tale this is, of a rotten lad
With a thatch of Scot red hair.
He lay around, a lazy bones,
As if he hadn’t a care.
His arms were skinny from lack of use
His were skeletons – aye!
His body so suffered from disuse,
It could do little else, but sigh.
His head t’was empty, don’t you know
With only images would he fill.
Show after film after another he watched
‘Til his imagination did he kill.
He eyed a book as a movie gone wrong.
“Why ‘tis only a script!” he said.
And he used a hardbound, classic tale,
As a plate to eat his bread.
“There is no sense in games,” said he,
“After all, what point have they?”
So, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms,
Stubbornly refusing to play.
As then to study, no worse than he
Has ever before walked this earth!
“I learn all I need, from my movies indeed!”
So he happ’ly gave his knowledge a dirth.
I know not what will become of him,
For the lad hated all work, as well.
“If work were jolly and not such a bore!”
So, honest labor from his consideration fell.
There, he sat, upon his old couch,
Letting precious time pass him by.
Ah! Some one need remind him, our time’s not ours,
And eventually, away it will fly.
One day, he will wish, he didn’t just waste,
Those precious years with mindless wand’ring.
He’ll wish he had read, knew how to work,
And could study just about anything.
So listen and be thankful, while you may scoff,
That your parents didn’t allow such as he,
Because, this mindless lad, though rotten I may call,
Could have once been the wish of you or me.
To the KING be all the glory!
I like that poem!
What does the picture have
to do with the poem?
This part, dear:
“He eyed a book as a movie gone wrong.
“Why ‘tis only a script!” he said.
And he used a hardbound, classic tale,
As a plate to eat his bread.”
:D
Oh! I See.
:)
(: