With black curly hair all covered in grime,
a mad crazy stare, constantly stepping out of line.
Lives in a bunker all covered in moss,
thinks he’s the best and always the boss.
Lolloping around in his big clumpy boots,
stamping on helpless bugs and ripping up flowers by their roots.
He has not a care for the things of this world,
so his pure nastiness continually unfurled.
The Nathing was its name and if you ever did meet,
be sure if you’re on a bus to offer him your seat.
© C Webber 2017