The Burglar

“Well, your honor,
I confess to my crime.
It is a simple story,
And I do not wish to waste the court’s time.

It was Easter morn’,
About half past three.
When the sound of tiny feet
Came to me as I dreamed.

Pattering, pattering…
Who might that be?
A burglar? A thief?
What could it want from me?

Quietly I snuck,
Through the door of my room.
The image I saw,
Filled me with doom.

A tiny figure,
With a basket laden with goods.
Now I did, your honor,
What any sane man would.

It were but a passion,
A terrible, terrible passion.
That made me respond, your honor,
In such a brutal, brutal fashion.

I killed the Easter Bunny.
I killed him I swear.
I thought him a thief,
I was quite unaware.

I must admit, dear judge,
I killed the tiny beast.
But am I sorry? NO!
For on that Holy afternoon I dined on a rabbit feast.”