Full Confession for the Titans
Pay up! Pay up! It's not a game, you know
Or, if it is, the rules are such that they will cause you woe;
The times I've had to tell you not to try that stuff with me
Be Smart! Pay up! Avoid a tragedy.
The repulgent splendour of possession
Can lead to undisclosed obsession
And though the tenor of this poem has lost it's keen inflection
The next verse gives us scope for rhythmical correctioon
Get off! Get off! You're standing on my hand
You've broken my watch, it cost a ruddy grand
The time's a mystery to me without my wrist-bound friend
Get off! get off! Or force me to defend!
The indulgent sorrow of confession
Sends me in to fits of festering depression
Unlike those wherewith I entertained the Duke of Insurrection
Go forth and learn the ancient art of criminal detection
It's time! It's time! To find my vein of gold
This quest, I fear is too large to behold
So I undertake it blindfolded, by sense of touch alone
And I walk into an aardvark, with such impact that I groan
The rapid instance of compression
Can lead to a suspended session
To attack a demon of repression
Comb the ground until you find a peculiar depression
And still the harpies screamed lament
They fill me with such fear, I must repent
A rising steam of sorrows vent
So I seek refuge in a lonely tent
On quicksand, so begins descent
But no-one knows which way they went
A bunch were buried in cement
Which really wasn't what I meant
Hibernate, the money's spent.
Contributors: | TG, The Agent Apsley, Son of Rippy, Kelly, Best Boy & Rip, Grayman, El Tel, Spawn of Rippy, Marta, Rip. |
Poem finished: | 23rd August 1999. |