My first entry in week 8 of The Poet's Pub 2nd Annual Biggest Competition Ever 2017- Nursery Rhyme

Whisper, whisper
Darling sister
I pray that thee don't tell
To our mother
Or little brother
That father is in the well
We lured and pushed him
Deep down to
It's murky, muddy bottom
As payment for
The night before
Now his broken body is rotten