183 - Feet

Has anyone seen my feet?

They're boney, made of meat

I'll be honest, I'm kind of beat

Someone's encased them in concrete

You might call this a defeat

I should have planned a retreat

Or at least been more discreet

When plotting my deceit

But they caught me - I'm a cheat

And my plans were not complete

And despite my heartfelt entreat

I'm on this helicopter - in the back seat

My death will be bittersweet

I'm being thrown in the sea - says Pete

Christ, he really loves to bleat

He's like a sadistic parakeet

My captors love to maltreat

And as I'm wrapped up in a sheet

I feel I must repeat

Has anyone seen my feet?

* * *

This poem appears in the book World’s Bestest Poetry Volume Two, available from the Shop!

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184 - Time

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182 - House