By Keith Sowerbutts.
Murphy lived on a lonely farm
And a thought often filled him with fear,
With crime, violence, mugging quite rife,
What would happen if a burglar was near?
So off he went and purchased a firearm,
If they came, it would give him a chance,
One shot might scare off the felon,
No intruder would lead him a dance.
He slept with the gun underneath his pillow,
Still nervous, noting every sound,
When he heard a noise in the bedroom,
Drew the pistol, aimed, fired off a round.
The bullet blew off his own big toe,
It wasn't a burglar at all
Just the tapping of the curtain against the window,
Soon ambulance men answered the call.
They asked him what had happened,
He replied as he rose from the bed,
"I'm lucky, if I'd slept the other way round,
I'm convinced I'd have blown off my head!"
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article