Oscar And Reeva

 

Oscar born without his shins,
Legs come off, he wins and wins
Medals on the track galore,
Wonder, fortune, fame and awe.

Finds himself a dizzy blonde,
Soon they form a fateful bond;
Oscar loves to fire his guns,
More than he loves tits and buns.

Reeva Steenkamp in the night
At his place, she takes a shite,
Oscar thinks he hears a noise –
Chance at last to use his toys

On a kaffir, grabs it and,
Fires it with a shaking hand
Through the door where Reeva sits,
Blows the dizzy blonde to bits.

To Leroy Cool Meets Oscar Pistorius

Back To Poetry Index