Teeth Poem by Phil Soar

My teeth were in a fight last night,
At least that's what it seems,
There must have been a Bar/Room brawl,
Among my many dreams;
I bit somebody's finger off,
And shoved it up his bum,
That would explain the dirty mark,
Which stained my right hand thumb.

I woke with teeth around the bed,
Some broken, not my own,
And several ears, and a nose or two,
And a mix of skin and bone;
It was like a Scene from a Zombie flick,
With blood and guts and gore,
There was evidence of a candlestick,
And some blood upon the floor.

The cops were called at 3 a.m.
They arrived at ten to Five,
By then, there were bodies everywhere,
And a few souls still alive;
A dentist and a doctor,
Who happened to be about
Looked at the mess, and in distress,
Began to scream and shout.

In the end I slept right through it,
After all, it was in my mind,
When I woke, I have been burgled,
Someone had robbed me blind;
So the outcome of this sorry tale,
Is as plain as it can be,
Don't grind you teeth, while you're asleep,
As dentists don't come free!