My Name’s Oliver

That’s just me

I’m just a short kid

Called Twisty

I may be a brat

But I’m not a twat

Although I do see

you getting Fat

In this world

In which we live

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Some people care

Some people give

Most do not

It is a flaw

The rich get richer 

while the poor stay poor

A Childs adventure

Has drawn to a close

Adopted by a friend

Hidden from his foes

But there is just one thing

None of you see

And that’s his wit

And how he beat thee

In an orphanage in London

Many people shunned him

But now he’s turned 20 

He now has a plenty

You see what he wants you to

While he hides his second hand

Machinations are afoot

For the events he has planned

This is the sequel

A message from the underdog

The Kids now a man

And the spit needs a hog

You won’t see him coming

For he’s already here

Tuck in your tails

It’s time to fear

For the pond is now his

And big fish fare no better

In the frying pan

Greased with sizzling butter

And at the pinnacle there he’ll be

No longer poor

For he has it all

He needs no more

And those humble upbringings

He will remember

For his will is now iron

Born of a fiery temper

Now he is king

And all shall bow

You reap what you sow

And he sows with a plough