Treasure Island

Stephen Loomes


My Circus Tent


Elsie was with narcissism. ill
Who, denied what she wanted
Was quite prepared to kill
While Gail, with her winnings
A few gold dubloons
For lack of love or a thrill
Showed her hand, far too soon
Leaving me injured
To howl at the moon.
Now Barbara the whore
Led the band at the New Taj Mahal
And pulled the puppet strings for Elsie
Moving us all in the corral
While Mr. Smith through his keyhole
Always frustrated and bitter
Spat venom at the puppets
Till revealed as the spitter
As the middle-eastern princess
Who used to be great,
Made a spite-filled plan
When her love turned to hate.
Of course there was Peter
With his black curly locks
Ventriloquising circumstance
To ensure opportunity knocks
And his hollow-souled partner
Whom he had rejected,
Showing up at my door
Telling me that I looked dejected
I've come down to save you
And restore you to your health
While putting my heart in a blender
With her vixen-like stealth
Left a tomb of my friendship
Down by the Bay
While she and her Peter
Slithered slimily away.
So then there was Ian
Who always seemed to be there
A last friend who could help me
And one who seemed to care,
But after years of helping him
Answering every plea
When he saw I was wounded
He could only think about himself
And said 'What about me'
So there we did go
And that is how it went
And all of this some years ago,
In my life's Circus tent

Submitted: Friday, August 01, 2014
Edited: Sunday, September 07, 2014

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Topic(s): Friendship

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