In a dingy cellar, left to brood,
He weakened daily with no food,
And battered hourly, sometimes rape,
His only hope was to escape.
But how to flee when seven men
Have got you tied up in their den?
He lay despaired as weeks did pass,
And dreamed of summer, trees and grass.

Outside all the news had read:
“Kojak missing, presumed dead”,
And all the TV’s told his story
(Though they knew not just how gory!)
The police pleaded for advice:
“Help him please, he’s very nice,
He has no friends, just you and I,
We have to save him, have to try.”

Months soon passed, one year then two,
And people forgot, old for new,
And rapes and beatings he’d endure,
Just like a punch-bag on the floor.
With every kick and every rape,
He knew full well there’s no escape,
Then like a balloon, ‘bout to burst,
He shut his eyes then died of thirst.

His captors, Kenyan refugees,
With eyes like devils, ears like trees,
They took his starving body out,
And left it in the roads about,
But when the police did soon arrive,
They found the corpse was now alive.
He said: “I’m Kojak, no pets, no wife,
Please take me home and save my life.”


© 2001 Matt Everett