Keep Off The Old Bloke Poem by Poppa Yao

Born and bred on ghetto soils,
Breastfed on her spoils.
I recoil at the recall of tiring toils.
Burdened, blistered and full of boils,
Hungered intestines curled in coils.
Had yet to taste the spoils.


After I tasted the sweet savoury spoils,
No more mauling moils!
Only recoil is of souls whose fates I foil,
At my pimple-less skin envy boils.
As my cutlery oozes appetizing oils.
Addicted to these sweet scented spoils.

But stains stain the soul!
My son shall learn to toil and moil,
I wont hold him at all,
Lest he smell the seductive scent of spoils.

I am the elephant who'll tell the fowl,
'Foolishly freeing stool is foul! '