Bessy's Klepto Son Poem by Francis Duggan

Bessy Ryan is proud of her son Jim
And she feels that there's no one quite like him
And her precious Jim the apple of her eye
Has now become a fully fledged altar boy.

She boasts my boy is best for miles around
And he's a saint and walks on blessed ground
And by example my son lead the way
And if God spares him he will be Pope one day.

You've Danny boy the young fellow next door
A real hard case and a social eye sore
Thirteen years old and on the road to shame
It's him and his type give our town bad name.

No doubt the freakiest youngster in the town
The garb he wear he dresses like a clown
With streaky hair and ear ring on left ear
I thank the lord for Jim my little dear.

Most of the youth around here are on the road to hell
For drugs and booze they'd steal your eyes to sell
And it's no wonder I feel a privileged mum
As my youngster is not a teenage bum.

Bessy Ryan so full of self conceit
The biggest of the big heads in our street
In public places sing the praises loud
Of Jim her son of whom she feels quite proud.

Yet I wonder if Bess big head only knew
the mischief that her boy has been up to
About her darling Jim she'd dare not brag
She'd keep shut mouth the loud mouthed windbag.

Her little Jim is far from saintly lad
The kleptomania bug has bit him bad
And he has a better chance of dying dangling from a rope
Than in the holy Vatican as Pope.