Dear Lord, forgive me, Though I know that I am sinless.
And curse those that commit The Seven Deadly Sins without remorse Over and Over again.
The greedy, The lustful, Those who set their wrath On innocent ones like me; And also those who Drink in excess, And gamble, and partake Of other games of Satan.
But promise this humble servant of yours That this Saturday This ticket will be the one, And don't tell my wife, About Sara, And Kate, And Phoebe.
By Miriam Perthania
It wasn't going to be long before someone got round to writing The Lottery Poem. In fact, it could become a genre. The speaker in this one combines a nice mockery of brazen penitence with an almost evangelical hypocrisy. What clinches it for me is the ending - the Lord keeping a secret, the wife kept in the dark, and the girlfriends in line for a share of the bonanza. Wicked stuff.
Miriam Perthania, aged 14, receives Back by Midnight by John Mole (Puffin). Submitted by Bob Beale of Pate's Grammar School, Princess Elizabeth Way, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire GL51 0HG, who receives a set of Poetry Society posters with teacher's notes. For Poetry Society events, ring 0171 240 2133.