Inchcock’s Depressive Poorly Rhyming Outpourings

When I was told Mother greeted my arrival with “Throw it in the Trent”,

That 3lb bundle of blood covered flesh had started life in torment,

That was the start of my enthusiasm and hopes rapid descent,

She’d keep running away and that cheered me up just a tad,

But I had to do the shopping cleaning and running after our Dad,

 

I didn’t mind because he was a firm but very fair man,

When Mother returned was when the stealing and hassle began.

I was bullied at school and Dad told me I had to fight back,

I lost so many teeth I didn’t have to worry about dental plaque.

 

To those at school education it was a mythical creature,

By those at school, I mean each and every teacher,

At about 6 I got thrown in the canal, always been afraid of water,

I’m sure when eventually rescued I was three inches shorter.

 

Left school at 14 as thick or thicker than a plank,

Met Big Ruth who was built like a pretty tank,

She taught me things that she called a prank,

After that I walked with a bit of a swank.

 

Mother got arrested and Dad moved house, I went into a lodging house,

There was a bloke lived there name of Peter Klaus,

Who introduced me to the local Home Ales House,

Where I would learn to give my liver a regular dowse.

 

Years of alcohol abuse followed, but many a happy time was had,

Eventually I realised that this was expensive and for my liver bad,

Of course I was still a seeking adventure young lad,

So I applied to join the Army and off to Aldershot, was I raving mad?

They threw me out for medically it was me liver, and that was sad.

 

When working in Security, I became their only officer to get shot.

No sick pay with them, I nearly ended up in a squat!

Made redundant years later, working for an employment agency,

They kept underpaying me wages, for the hours that I’d worked,

I left because I was angry annoyed and irked.

 

Haemarroids grew from me bottom end more than a bit,

The ticker-valve packed up, took em months to find it,

Arthritis in the hands and knees and then cancer I could spit,

Duodenal ulcer, hernia, two hearing aids, and high BP hit,

Then came a judicial writ.

 

They replaced me aorta valve with a mechanical one,

Then me reflux valve was sticking, the son of a gun,

My penis became enflamed and apparently rotting it would seem.

But they got it under control with the use of Dakacort cream.

 

No one visits me at home nowadays at all, don’t blame them though,

If you saw my hovel, it’s somewhere you wouldn’t want to go,

Depression is possibly the worst of my ailments you know,

Then the definite worst I suffered a day ago…

My laptop is dying and Coreldraw corrupted,

That is unquestionably the worst you know…