I only keep it under the seat to scare them
You see they steal and I don't get paid in the end
And what do I do people say they leave their money
Then they want their milk and not getting paid isn't funny
It was a dark winter's night and he called us about it
And we looked for milk money thieves running about in a fit
So up and down the streets we went until in a lane way
The teenager was lying on his back and bleeding away
So he went to the hospital and the news for him was bad
He would never walk again and his outlook was sad
The investigation went on and we found out
The milk man had shot him in the back whilst running about
So the story was sad all around with no message of hope to extend
With the milk man going to Gaol and loosing everything in the end
And as a lark to steal milk money in the darkness at night
To be crippled forever was a price to pay that was not right.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad story! With the ways of mankind on earth. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.