I spot a feral child lope on all fours
Out of my kitchen window blinds
Where my garden backs on to the field
‘‘Faaaark!” I hear it bark and swear

It’s come down from the wood I’d say
Looks like a boy of eleven years
Difficult to tell they’re all so retarded
And carry diseases and fleas

He can see me now he’s on his hind legs
I won’t wave or he’ll run off
I’ll see if I can get a closer view
Make my way down the garden path

Good Grief! I have to hold my nose
You know I can smell him from here
Stinks like he’s been rolling in shit all day!
Doesn’t do to get too downwind

I wonder who he once belonged to?
Some parents turned their kids out
When the Government of the day imposed
The Children’s Penalty Act

Well now little carbon footprint
You’d better be watching your step
If your little legs don’t run fast enough
You’ll be up for someone’s pot!

Now we’ve got so many ferals
They’ve reintroduced fox hunting
And adapted it to hunting child-sports
Horse and hounds, yay, go tally ho!

There are not so many ferals this year
We’ve had a harsh Winter it culls them
He must be hungry poor little scum
They don’t normally come this near

I’ve thrown him a chocolate Easter egg
It’s no good he’s eating the wrapping
And thrown the egg away in disgust
Why do I bother I ask myself?

They are notifiable vermin of course
But like rabbits, it’s always nice
To see one or two them hopping about
Makes you feel good to be alive!

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