
If I were to tell you the story
Of the boy who began to feel poorly
You'd question the chance
Fall into a trance
And dream a dream quite gorey!
Now this young man was unable
To eat his food at the table
So he went to bed
With a swollen head
And began to feel unstable!
Oh, how his mother did worry
As the fever came on in a hurry
So she asked those who knew
'What should she do?'
And flushed him out with hot curry!
Anxiety grew and grew
As his fingers and toes turned blue
The fever grew worse
And so did his girth
And he no longer could go to the loo!
Alas, the story turns tragic
As his parents invested in gadgets
Designed for relief
They only brought grief
And now the boy's a spastic!