My Guy (A November 5th Tale)

Tonight's the night that sparks will fly,

It's all down to a chap named Guy,

Today's the day we all remember,

The fifth day that is of November.

I spent all day sorting clothes,

My Guy I've made will make me loads,

His clothes are trendy, his mask is funny, 

My Guy will rake in all the money.

Mary Wells when she sang My Guy,

She had a point, I now know why,

With an old pushchair I pushed him round,

Pennies I made turned into pounds.

The bonfires ready, It's time for lighting,

Fireworks screeching the noise is frightening,

My Guy his legs are licked by flames,

I'll never see those clothes again.

The fire now rages round his mask,

His demise was painless, fun, and fast,

When his head blew up the crowd did cheer,

But In my eyes there was a tear. 

My Guy he did me proud today,

And I wish the 5th was everyday,

The cash he made me filled my pockets,

As  I smile and beam at all the rockets.