Panic
1.
If the sound of distant clatter
From the kitchen fills shakes you from your bed,
If the smell of bubbling pancake batter
Makes you fear the bread,
Or if the chirpy chatter
Of a TV chef fills you with dread,
Then shriek or slink, it doesn’t matter,
But just scatter to the shed….
2.
If the sound of critics pishing,
Tutting, and poo-pooing, taking aim,
Or sneering as they’re strutting, swishing,
Choosing who to raise to fame,
Just sucks you of ambition,
That you’ll never beat them at their game –
Then don’t wait from the first edition,
Join a mission, change your name…
3.
If you hear a distant cry
From the skirl of his pipes in piercing shrills,
If you hear his hooves come trotting by,
Or his bleating, braying trills,
If you glance his wool-caked thigh,
Or horns still bloody from his kills –
Then pant and scream that the end is nigh,
And run high for the hills…
Day 7 – Panic – #inktober #inktoberpoem #inktoberpoetry
