A SICK LIMERICK
Dedicated to Ms P.
She dreamed that V.P. was dead
With bullets right through his head.
Many times he was shot.
He deserved what he got.
He bled to death in his bed.
Glad that her old man was dead,
A horrid life she had led.
With a dad, a bully
Whom she feared fully,
Now slept in peace in her bed.
That sometimes happens to despots.
They can be targets of gunshots.
With a price on their head
When the world wants them dead
So many crooks see their mugshots.
April 20, 2022
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A SICK LIMERICK
PoetryThis topical limerick (chain) briefly describes the dream of one of V.P.'s daughters.
