When Lady Di Died, I Cried — Pete RM Cuppaidge Poet

When Lady Di Died, I Cried

When Lady Di died, I cried

What can one say about her death

Deeply dying with the doting Dodi

of a badly broken heart

Insanely underneath the river Seine

at100 miles an hour

with a drunk demented driver

in a tunnel beneath that river ancient

Like the channel between

the oh so British Isle and France

connecting each opposing race by chance

she the Christian, he the Arab (so in your face)

whose Dad ended up with Harrods

as horrid as this might seem

to some old fogies

friends of Fergie

and various other royal disgraces

too numerous here to mention

But back to the fatal couple

she’s so famous he’s so romantic

she’s so utterly famous one wonders

who will fill the void of super adulation

she the super constellation of the stars

so beautiful and an English princess too

so sweet, so shy

I always loved our Lady Di

even with that fuckwit, cad and bounder Hewitt

or playing ball with Captain Bill

or some other Tom or Dick or Harry

When she should have been back home 26

and bored In boring old Balmoral

(there’s a moral here somewhere)

and bringing up that little Bill

and carrying on about that little Harry

But let us not tarry on what might have been

and back to that deadly scene

beneath the Seine

where shoddy photographers

with no sense of shame

swarmed upon the reeking wreck

like hyenas on the kill

with alli nside so still

the princess is without a blemish

as befits her fairytale a dream

that will never now go stale

and though she may well have gone (coquettishly)