Rat? He asks

Three weeks and four days

When last I saw the sun

Beneath the cobbled streets I live

Imprisoned for things I have not done

This dungeon under streets I live in

Starving, hoping for salvation

My cellmate, offers me his charity

Rat? He asks


Rat! Rat? What good is that?

Distract me from my musing with that rodent, you prat

I dined on steaks and fine wines before I was confined

If you think I'll eat a rat then you're out of your mind


Alas, I sit here bound in chains,

Dark shadows, my only friends in this dark place

I long to see her face once more,

For things to be as they were before.

But this hunger, this pain I can't ignore

My withered flesh, my shrivelled form

My cellmate pities the life I mourn

Rat? He asks


Rat!? A rat wont bring back her face

Not with their smell or oily taste

She'll probably find some other man in time

So shove your rat where the sun don't shine!


So hungry, it is of all I think

Sat here starving in this awful stink

My muse is gone, I can not think

I've used the same rhyme twice now, I stink

My cellmate I do implore thee

Do you have a rat to feed me?

My cellmate sadly shakes his head

Rat? He asks.


Rat? I'm all out I am afraid.

You've turned 'em down now every time

All that's left is cockroaches glazed in sewer slime

Don't worry though, they rot your tongue off, then they're fine.


The End

213 comments about this poem Feed