Being that it's the Christmas Season,
I must forewarn you of the treason
of writing something so displeasing
but it's just what I've been feeling.
For all throughout my little house
I have creatures stirring, worse than louse,
which don’t include my family
but just their friends they force upon me.
Now mind you I’ve not harmed a fly
but if you only knew you’d wonder why.
The poem below is purely fictitious
so don’t go getting too suspicious.
I’m buying a brand new bat,
we’ll see what they think about that.
Maybe then they’ll turn tail and scat
before they’re clobbered like a rat.
All the rules have been planted,
nothing ever was recanted.
No more time outs will be granted,
this isn’t their life enchanted.
Bases are loaded, no more room,
it’s crazy that they just presume,
but this is not their mama’s womb
and they could end up in a tomb.
“Batter’s up!” will be their warning
and they’ll just be left forlorning
cause I will not be in mourning
for the marks they’ll be adorning.
I’ll be having major league dreams
of hearing all their bloody screams.
I’ll gladly take on all their teams
and they’ll just see how my smile beams.
So take heed now while you have time
and don't be fooled by this rhyme
because I think you all are slime
and having you gone would be sublime.