Bob shot John Jones

With no remorse,

To stop his moans,

Bob shot again, of course.


Jones was the town bully,

And gave many a pummlin,’

He was mean and surly,

Some say Jones had it comin,’


You should never pick a fight

With one tougher than you,

But Jones lacked foresight,

And now he’s cold and blue,


In a shallow grave, laced with lime,

Too bad he didn’t realize,

That if there was a next time,

Never bully somebody your own size.


Or better yet, surely,

To live old and gray,

Don’t be a bully,

That’s all I’ve got to say.

4 thoughts on “A BULLY’S RECKONING”

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