Tuesday 11 January 2011

Requiem to Woolworths 
by Mel, Sanjay, and Steve, New Year's Eve

It's true to some you're known as Woolies,
 And you give to me the warm and fuzzies.
No time to pick and mix your fate;
 For future kids it's now to late -

If this be paris, they'd demonstrate
 To remonstrate your curt demise;
To Turk's delight you're the sultanate,
 Cheerfully cheap we all surmise.

O Architecture of my youth
 To whom I lost many a tooth,
For plastic toys you are divine;
 You would've survived if you sold wine!

1 comment:

  1. This poem has actually been entered into the intergalactic bad poetry competition. The judges think the poem shows promise but they are not sure what it is referring to; what is this Woolies that you speak of? Is it some sort of palace?

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