Stanley wanted nothing more.
Then a pair of new trainers, like the boy next door.
So he went to the shops and emptied his pockets.
But some coins, a tissue and a small toy rocket.
Could not amount to the high priced brand.
And he was asked to leave by the security man.
So Stanley went away for a while.
But then came back, with a cheeky smile.
And he stole those shoes, from right under their nose.
And wore them home, in such comfortable toes.
But alas, this was not the end for Stanley.
Who began to steal things, to feel more manly.
He moved on to televisions and peddling dope.
At only 15, he was beyond all hope.
Of ever being on the straight and narrow.
Hitting the underworld, fast like an arrow.
Now he runs with a questionable crowd.
Who only ever think out loud.
And cannot be trusted as far as thrown.
Poor Stanley I fear, has never grown.
So don’t be surprised if you come across him.
Shoplifting in Tesco or shooting up with a grin.
For if you try to talk, or have a rescue plan.
He’ll flip you the finger, and steal your gran.
Havoc and Consequence 