I LANGUISH IN THE GLOOM

scullery maid

Amélie was a good sort

At least I thought so until that day

She locked me in the cellar

Of her Paris bordello and threw the key away

 

My crime? I didn’t cough up

The fee after the event

A caddish trick I realize now

Yet my francs I’d long since spent

 

Spent them on the champagne

And several dancing girls

Oh yes and at the opium den

And also on street walkers of low morals

 

And thus it was when I arrived

At Madam Amélie’s maison de tolerance

I feasted upon both flesh and food

Yet claimed of ignorance

 

When presented with the bill

For all the services she had rendered

Only at the point she drew her pistol

Was the point that I surrendered

 

So now I languish in the gloom

Of a vault so cold and dank

In the company of sewer rats

And a rather smelly septic tank

 

Yet am I disappointed?

Well I am to a certain extent

But looking on the bright side

It could be heaven sent

 

That her pretty scullery maid Hélène

Has taken pity at my plight

And has eased the strain of my incarceration

By ‘visiting’ me both day and night

 

Each time she has a free moment

She takes a clandestine trip down here

Also she promises to escape with me

When the coast is clear

 

Yet do I really want to leave?

After all I am the consummate cad

And Hélène serves my every need

So things really aren’t that bad

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16 thoughts on “I LANGUISH IN THE GLOOM

    1. A truth indeed – all told though the living with a pong would rather put me off. I mean there’s the Paris of love and the Paris of cesspits. Of course should every maid have their own key…well he’d have to ponder that point!

    1. Give the guy a break young Marissa – after all he’s been through. By the way I didn’t mention it when commenting yet that was yet another fine verse what you writ today! Apologies for the omission.

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