The Darker Side of Nursery Rythmes 3

Dear old sensitive Peter,
Being chipper and Gay.
Had one too many a beer,
With Hallows eve play.

As the party ended,
And Peter drove home.
He called his wife and pretended,
He would be working alone.

So as he rushed,
To see his beautiful wife.
He couldn’t help but feel flushed,
Remembering his life.

Hallows Eve,
There was no better.
Pumpkins Seethe,
And burn ever redder.

His memory bringing him to the Party,
Of which he met the lovely Jenny.
The night that made him hardy,
And showed he could be very happy.

All the more he was grinning and smiling,
while he began to pull in the driveway.
He planned to be very surprising,
And keep his dear jenny up till the next day.

Sneaking in the back door,
He made quiet attempts to sneak about.
When something made a loud roar,
And his heart felt it would pop out.

He rushed to find the noise,
Stopping outside their room.
Peaking in to see silhouettes dance,
He felt horror of certain doom.

There his wife lay,
Legs spread wide.
With a man eager to play,
And moans from their ride.

His wife lay winded and giggling,
As the man began to play and buck.
Her moans of words telling,
That he was the best fuck.

Dear Sensitive Peter,
His heart stopped beating.
He watched with fear,
as his wife continued screaming.

His mind began to plummet,
And his stomach lurched him to the kitchen.
His body begged to vomit,
But his thoughts begged to lessen.

In a bummed attempt to quiet his mind,
The poor little man grabbed a knife.
With quick movements and no need to find,
He made it to the bedroom to claim his wife.

In the throws of their orgasm,
He ran in and dove the knife deep.
The Man lurched forward in great spasm,
And the knife slid from the dead heap.

His wife screamed and cried bloody murder,
Only forcing him to silence her too.
The knife twisting and cutting her further,
He killed the bitch all too soon.

Hallows Eve,
There is no greater.
Peter sat by his wife's feet,
Feeling nothing but hate.

Then an idea sprung in the mans feeble thought,
Making him jump to gather all the right material.
In a quick but fruitful manner as he was taught,
He built a large pumpkin that looked surreal.

He made a large face,
And made it grin.
Then set it outside in haste,
His secret soon to win.

He was then busy dressing both bodies,
Making them look clean and ready.
His face lit up when they looked like dollies,
A little girls play thingy.

Carrying both out to the Hallows eve toy,
He sat them in the middle and lit the candles.
He had ran to the front and looked with joy,
Upon the couple held by handles.

They looked at peace and pleasantly happy,
As Peter walked into his house.
He grabbed a piece of Pumpkin pie,
And sat upon his couch.

And there he ate with a smile,
Watching out to see what he cant.
Enjoying all the while,
Singing a small Chant.....

“Peter, peter, Pumpkin eater....

Had a wife, and couldn’t keep her....

He put her in a pumpkin shell....

And there he kept her, Very well.....”