To People Who Have Wronged Me, With My Compliments

A humorous wish-list for those who have deliberately harmed me. Shocking, yes, but I defy anyone to admit that they have never felt this way.

Damn you, you bastards, may you suffer the pox,
May the burglar and arsonist unpick your locks,
May your grandmother's legacy all go in taxes,
And may you be punctured with knives and with axes,
May your complexion be covered in spots,
May your car get corrosion and rust till it rots,
May your partner run off with your very best friend,
May your bitterness last till your untimely end,
May you find that your father is not what he seems,
But the toast of the Gay clubs, the Queen among Queens,
And may you discover your mother's a tart,
In company, may you compulsively fart,
May you find that your mortgage is way past your means,
May they prove that your children do not have your genes,
May your roof beams have woodworm, your floorboards dry rot,
May your winters be too cold, your summers too hot,
May you gain weight and swell like a barrage balloon,
And go totally crazy with every full moon,
May you get gonorrhoea and catch leprosy
And take all of these things with good wishes from me !

© Lynne Joyce, 24/3/1993.