The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #127355 Message #2839913
Posted By: The Sandman
15-Feb-10 - 10:54 AM
Thread Name: One of Mudcat's Best Discussions
Subject: RE: One of Mudcat's Best Discussions
BS: More Bad Poetry
Little Hawk 07 Aug 03 - 07:40 PM Amos 07 Aug 03 - 08:17 PM Rapaire 07 Aug 03 - 09:40 PM mack/misophist 07 Aug 03 - 09:57 PM Padre 07 Aug 03 - 10:31 PM Rapaire 07 Aug 03 - 10:32 PM JennyO 07 Aug 03 - 11:12 PM Amos 08 Aug 03 - 02:22 AM Micca 08 Aug 03 - 04:15 AM greg stephens 08 Aug 03 - 07:24 AM Micca 08 Aug 03 - 09:09 AM TheBigPinkLad 08 Aug 03 - 05:08 PM Rapaire 08 Aug 03 - 05:59 PM Amos 08 Aug 03 - 08:14 PM Rapaire 08 Aug 03 - 08:27 PM Amos 08 Aug 03 - 08:50 PM Alba 08 Aug 03 - 09:17 PM Rapaire 08 Aug 03 - 09:56 PM Little Hawk 09 Aug 03 - 01:32 AM Amos 09 Aug 03 - 02:21 AM greg stephens 09 Aug 03 - 03:39 AM alanabit 09 Aug 03 - 07:17 AM Rapaire 09 Aug 03 - 10:26 AM Little Hawk 09 Aug 03 - 12:14 PM Amos 09 Aug 03 - 12:34 PM alanabit 09 Aug 03 - 12:35 PM Sandra in Sydney 10 Aug 03 - 10:00 AM Willie-O 10 Aug 03 - 11:13 AM Amos 10 Aug 03 - 11:29 AM Rapaire 10 Aug 03 - 11:50 AM GUEST,Ms Penelope Rutledge 10 Aug 03 - 12:52 PM Amos 10 Aug 03 - 01:50 PM Amos 10 Aug 03 - 01:58 PM Little Hawk 10 Aug 03 - 03:49 PM Alba 08 Jul 06 - 03:19 PM GUEST,Poet extrordinaire 08 Jul 06 - 05:34 PM Amos 08 Jul 06 - 06:55 PM Alba 08 Jul 06 - 08:14 PM Amos 08 Jul 06 - 10:22 PM LadyJean 08 Jul 06 - 10:55 PM Sandra in Sydney 09 Jul 06 - 04:07 AM Bunnahabhain 09 Jul 06 - 07:30 AM Little Hawk 09 Jul 06 - 08:34 PM Good Soldier Schweik 10 Jul 06 - 11:55 AM Good Soldier Schweik 10 Jul 06 - 12:22 PM Good Soldier Schweik 10 Jul 06 - 01:50 PM Good Soldier Schweik 10 Jul 06 - 03:00 PM Georgiansilver 11 Jul 06 - 02:27 AM Good Soldier Schweik 11 Jul 06 - 07:05 AM Amos 11 Jul 06 - 09:47 AM Good Soldier Schweik 11 Jul 06 - 06:32 PM Dave Hanson 12 Jul 06 - 02:48 AM Good Soldier Schweik 12 Jul 06 - 11:45 AM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 12:17 PM Alba 12 Jul 06 - 12:21 PM Good Soldier Schweik 12 Jul 06 - 01:02 PM Amos 12 Jul 06 - 01:13 PM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 01:21 PM RangerSteve 12 Jul 06 - 02:00 PM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 02:04 PM Alba 12 Jul 06 - 02:16 PM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 02:48 PM Good Soldier Schweik 12 Jul 06 - 07:53 PM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 07:57 PM Amos 12 Jul 06 - 08:14 PM Alba 12 Jul 06 - 09:09 PM Amos 12 Jul 06 - 10:51 PM Little Hawk 12 Jul 06 - 11:08 PM Amos 13 Jul 06 - 12:20 AM
Lyrics & Knowledge Search [Advanced]
DT Forum Sort (Forum) by:relevance date DT Lyrics:
Search Amazon.com No results for BS: More Bad Poetry Get WidgetPrivacyAmazon.com
Subject: BS: More Bad Poetry From: Little Hawk - PM Date: 07 Aug 03 - 07:40 PM
Here's another marvelous bad poem from William McGonagall which I feel you people should not have to live without any longer...read it and weep!
THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL by William McGonagall
It was biting cold, and the falling snow, Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe, Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street, Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on; But, alas! poor child, now they were gone. For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street, Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast; And the child's heart felt cold and downcast, For nobody had bought any matchea that day, Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold; So in a corner between two houses she made bold To take shelter from the violent storm. Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread, And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair; While the passers-by for her had no care, As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace, While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold, And no longer her strength could her uphold, When an idea into her little head came: She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly, And it helped to fill her heart with glee; And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand; But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow, And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe; And many present let fall a burning tear Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold - But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold. But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear, A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.