Dear Mum, I’ve been captured by monsters.
They’ve got me locked up in a cave.
It’s dark and it’s damp and it’s smelly.
They’ll eat me if I don’t behave.

I know that you told me to listen.
It seems you were right all these years.
You warned me that bad things would happen,
If I didn’t wash round my ears!

I wish now I’d heeded your wisdom.
Your life tips were really sublime.
Like always rememb’ring a hanky -
I didn’t … and oh, Lord, the slime!

But Mum, you’ll be pleased that my failure,
Was far, far from being complete.
My undies were fresh on this morning, (and)
I de-odourised both my feet.

The monsters have said that they’ll feed us.
Alas, for the menu’s not hot.
It looks like they’re giving us loo roll to eat,
And stuff that resembles pink snot.

Don’t worry, though, Mum, I’m not lonely,
Together here trapped in this cave,
There’s Ali and Tommy and Barry,
Plus Andy and Joe, Sam and Dave.

I suppose it’s our own fault for plotting.
We thought it would be quite a laugh,
To write a supreme monster story,
With squidging and splodging and barf!

In case they are not that familiar,
The words in the last line but one.
Are authorly terms used in monsters’ demise
I use them quite often, they’re fun!

It seems that the monsters took umbrage,
And now they are making us pay.
They tell us we have to write fun stuff,
For youngsters to read ev’ry day.

I’m hoping they’ll let me go soon, Mum.
For monsters, they seem pretty fair.
But if you’ve advice about jailbreaks,
Please tell, Mum, I’ll listen – I swear!

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