Naughty Poems

Give Back My Glove

I did not kill my lovely wife.
I did not slash her with a knife.

I did not bonk her on the head.
I did not know that she was dead.

I stayed at home that fateful night.
I took a cab, then took a flight.

The bag I had was just for me.
My bag! My bag! Hey, leave it be.

When I came home I had a gash.
My hand was cut from broken glass.

I cut my hand on broken glass.
A broken glass did cause that gash.

I have nothing, nothing to hide.
My friend, he took me for a ride.

Did you take this person's life?
Did you do it with a knife?

I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not kill my wife.

I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not anytime.

Did you hit her from above?
Did you drop this bloody glove?

I did not hit her from above.
I cannot even wear that glove.

I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not kill my wife.

I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, not anytime.

And now I'm free, I can return
To my house for which I yearn.

And to my family whom I love.
Hey now I'm free -- Give back my glove!!

______________

Back   Home   Next