Jack and June
There once was a woman named June,
Whose face was all scrunched like a prune,
She cackled quite often,
And lived in a coffin,
And soon became known as a loon.
One day she discovered a man,
Driving along in a dark van.
She cackled with glee,
And with a "Whoopee!"
She walked towards him looking deadpan.
"My dear sir," said the evil crone,
With a stumble and a fake moan.
"I've stepped on some glass,
There's some in my ass,
And all is want is to go home."
The man (who we know is named Jack)
Got out of his car that was black.
"Dear madam,' he said,
"You'll soon surely be dead,
Let me take you to my old shack."
As they drove to young Jack's abode,
He said, "How 'bout pie a la mode?"
She cooed with much glee,
And said, "Yes siree,"
"He's mine." Was her thought on that road.
In six weeks she became his wife,
"In happiness and through all strife"
She said very well.
At home, with a yell,
She killed him with a butcher knife.
Now June just lives all on her own,
With no one to bitch and to moan.
Soon she grew lonely,
And thought, "If only,
I had one more sharp butcher knife.
Now, morals I usually do tell,
But since June does wind up in hell,
I'm hard pressed to say,
If any good may,
Come out of this story as well.