Dear Lawrence,
I have news, I’m not doing so well
If you are reading this it means that I’m dead
Dear Lawrence don’t weep, do not greave for me now
For there’s important things must be said
Of all of my nephews I loved you the least
You are obnoxious and callous you snot
So put down your tissue and dry those fake tears
For God’s sake be the man that you’re not
Now as you well know my fortune is vast
And my generosity famed through the state
This is the reason for me writing you now
For there are tensions I must alleviate
Dear Lawrence you crap, you are out of my will
I leave not a penny for you
Do your remember the Christmas you called me a cow
I assure you I certainly do
You said they should milk me, and put a bell round my neck
And find me the old bull that I crave
You laughed and you laughed all Christmas day
Now it’s me laughing… just from the grave
Give mummy a kiss from her favorite sister
Dear Lawrence good luck on your own
Do not pity yourself though your brothers are rich
Chin up
Sincerely, Victoria L’Moane
