To those who knew him
-his friends-
we called him Roy.
To others he was known
as that horrible Toxic Boy.
He loved ammonia and asbestos,
and lots of cigarette smoke.
What he breathed in for air
would make other people choke!
His very favorite toy
was a can of aerosol spray;
he'd sit quietly and shake it,
and spray it all the day.
He'd stand inside the garage
in the early-morning frost,
waiting for the car to start
and fill him with exhaust.
The one and only time
I ever saw Toxic Boy cry
was when some sodium chloride
got into his eye.
One day for fresh air
they put him in the garden.
His face went deathly pale
and his body began to harden.
The final gasp of his short life
was sickly with despair.
Whoever thought that you could die
from breathing outdoor air?
As Roy's soul left his body
we all said a silent prayer.
It drifted up to heaven
and left a hole in the ozone layer.
YOU ARE READING
Poems By Tim Burton
PoetryIn that amazing mind of Tim Burton is a place I love to call my calm space. His creative poems and story's take life's troubles away and that's what I love. join me and read his amazing poems and maybe you'll see what I mean.
