Lol!

I used to laugh out loud,

then it became a thing

to L.O.L. Instead.

I tried to L.O.L. in bed;

but that didn’t go down well;

I tried to L.O.L. In church,

with even less success;

L.O.L.ing in the supermarket,

in the bank, on the bus,

well, people made such a fuss.

They didn’t L.O.L. at all.

I called into the library

and L.O.L.’d in the History Section,

and I was asked to leave quietly.

I was accused of having a lack of propriety – whatever that is –

and told not to come back.

My lack of silence

also caused violence at a wake,

where I was a coffin-bearer;

it was just something I thought of

that made me L.O.L.

and I could tell

that they were not amused.

Anyway, the deceased

had amassed a huge load of cash

which, surprisingly,

he decided to leave to me –

and him I thank,

for, now,

I am L.O.L.ing all the way back to the bank,