Little Willie is the hero of a number of short, funny, grisly poems that were written almost 100 years ago. Willie is a homicidal little boy who takes great pleasure in murdering members of his family, just for fun. For 100 years, overzealous parents have tried to ban these poems because they think they set a bad example for kids.
Little Willie, mean as hell,
Threw his sister in the well
Mama said, when drawing water,
“These days, it’s hard to raise a daughter.”
In the family drinking well,
Willie pushed his sister Nell,
She’s still there, because he killed her.
Now we’ll have to buy a filter.
Willie took a garden shears
Cut off his baby brother’s ears.
The baby looked so unsightly,
Mother raised her eyebrows slightly.
Little Willie, with a shout,
Gouged his brother’s eyeballs out
Stomped on them to make them pop
Mother said, “Now Willie, stop!”
Little Willie, feeling mean
Stabbed his sister in the spleen.
As she writhed in agony
Willie’s face was full of glee.
Willie scalped his sister’s head
And left her lying hairless.
“Really, Willie,” said his mother,
“You’re getting rather careless.”
Willie built a guillotine,
And tried it on his sister, Jean.
Said Mother, as she fetched the mop,
“These messy games have got to stop!”
Little Willie cooked his sister
Upon the kitchen range.
“My!” said mother, coming in,
”Do I smell something strange?”
Willie, I regret to state,
Chopped his sister up for bait.
We miss her when it’s time to dine
But Willie’s fish taste mighty fine.
While making moonshine, Little Will
Fell into his daddy’s still.
Said Father, “Now this might sound silly,
But tonight the drinks are all on Willie.”
Little Willie, oh, so shy,
Poked a stick in father’s eye,
Mother yelled, “Now don’t you bawl,
You’re old enough to have seen it all.”
Little Willie, with a curse
Threw a teapot at the nurse.
When it struck her on the nose,
His father cheered, “How straight he throws!”
While playing with his father’s gun,
Willie shot him, just for fun.
Said Willie, “I am not to blame.
I really thought that he was game.”
Willie, with a carving knife,
Took his sister Mary’s life;
“Now you’ve done it,” mother said,
“I think you may have bent the blade.”
Willie poisoned daddy’s tea;
His father died in agony.
Mother looked extremely vexed;
“Willy, tell me, who is next?”
Willie with a hatchet dull
Split in two his father’s skull;
Mom said, wiping up the stains,
“Willie has his father’s brains.”
Willie looked into a gun
And pulled the trigger, just for fun.
Mother said, in tones so pained,
“Willie, you’re so scatter-brained!”