Laura Rose
Memorial Trust

The Final Straw
By Steve Turner

I hit my sister
My dad got mad.
Dad said . "Get right in your bed. Now."

So I did. I got right in.
I slit open the mattress
With a sharpened blade
and I slid right in.

It was a tight fit between those springs.

So Dad said, "That's destuctive.
Stay in your room. And don't you dare come out.
So I did.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.
I stayed in my room.

I got lonely . And hungry.
So Dad said, " Come down here and eat some food.
Now you eat everything. You hear?
So  I did.

I ate the egg, the chips and the beans.
The plate, the knife, the fork.
The table.
so Dad said." You've gone too far.  You make me sick to death.

So I picked up the phone.
I called an ambulance.
Come quickly.  My Dad's sick....
How sick? Sick to death.

The sound of sirens soon filled the street.
They carried Dad off on a stretcher.
They had to strap him down to stop him struggling.
So Dad said.  That's the final straw!!
(But it wasn't. There was a spare one stuck onto a carton of fruit juice in the fridge.)

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Donations may be made to: The Laura Rose Memorial Trust
26 Smalls Croft,
Woodborough,
Nottingham
NG14 6EY