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PENNY DREADFUL by Cambion Hodr
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
Who butchered the children to put in her stew.
The bits and the bones she would boil in a pot,
The leftover juices she drank quite a lot.
The boys she would hang, much like pheasants and game,
The girls she would garnish, and treat just the same.
At times she’d add pepper, then pinches of salt,
Her hideous diet was in no way her fault!
Two arms in the oven, a thigh on the grill,
The meat in her pantry that she’d had to kill.
The succulent cuts that she relished the most,
The taste of their marrow spread over her toast.
News of the old woman spread over the land,
The folk of the forest united did stand.
A plan was required to vanquish the crone,
But who would go in to the forest alone?
A man in the village was missing his son,
And quickly decided the thing to be done.
He took out his axe that was under his bed,
And walked to her shoe and made off with her head!
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