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The Basher

They call me The Basher. 

They shudder with fright.

Just mention my moniker:

flocks will take flight.


My epithet’s famous

to all around town.

Refer to ‘The Basher’

and pants will turn brown. 


When told I’m approaching

they tremble with fear;

they burble and babble

“The Basher is here.”


My name is so dreaded

it’s hard to believe. 

They call me The Basher…

But Mum calls me ‘Steve’.

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