From Bad to Verse

I'm sorry, but this post is another of my old verses. I couldn't find any appropriate pictures to go with it.
It's one of a pair that you can find in this book:

I'll post he seond ne, next time i miss my blog deadlinne
The Yay Boo Spell
A solemn child, I never smiled.My face was long and scowling.The kids would cry when I walked byAnd dogs would all start howling.
My dad was bleak, ‘Our son’s a freak.There’s nothing we can do.We’ll simply have to sell himTo a circus or a zoo.’
‘We cannot sell our baby boy!’My mother told him flat.‘You'd have to be an idiotTo buy a kid like that.’
They took me to a hypnotist,(They found her on the 'net)She made a first impressionThat I never will forget.
It didn't make me confident,The costume that she wore -A dozen coloured tableclothsThat almost reached the floor
But naturally, I couldn't smileAlthough she looked absurdI simply sat there frowningAnd I didn't say a word.

The hypnotist regarded me,A pouting, scowling kid. 'His face could stop a clock,’ she said. My father said, ‘It did.
'We'll pay you anything,' he said. 'To fix his wretched state.' The hypnotist said, 'Fifty bucks?'And Dad said, 'Forty-eight.'
She waved her hands before my eyes,‘You’re feeling very sleepy.’I sat perplexed, and what came nextWas curious and creepy.
'Yay boo!' she cried, as if possessed'Yay boo a thousand times!'(I think it was a magic spellThat came from foreign climes.)
And as she spoke repeatedlyOf yaying and of booing,I scarcely could believe the thingsMy face had started doing.
A blink, a twitch, a facial itch,A jerk, a smirk, a sneer.At last I wore a giant grinThat stretched from ear to ear.

My parents hugged the hypnotist,'A miracle!' they cried.'However can we pay you back?''With money,' she replied.
They paid the bill, then with a thrillMy parents hit the mall.They jumped for joy, ‘Our darling boyIs human after all!
'His rosy cheeks look lovelyAnd his teeth are pearly white.Did anybody ever seeA more enchanting sight?
'We thought we would abandon him,Or send him far awayBut now he's started smilingWe're prepared to let him stay.'
But then a solemn funeral passed,The coffin piled with roses,I couldn’t stop my smilingAs the mourners blew their noses.
'You'd better stop your smiling, son.'That's quite enough for now.'You should look sad,' my father said,And I responded, 'How?'

'You mean, that grin is permanent?'My mother was appalled.(I blushed at all the naughty thingsThe hypnotist was called.)
The people saw my grinning face,They bellowed, ‘How unkind!’Then threw their soggy hankiesAnd whatever they could find.
The crowd went wild, ‘You gruesome child!For leering at the dead!’A lady picked her crutches upAnd crunched me round the head.
We passed the local hospitalWith patients on their trolleys I beamed at all the invalids,They pelted me with lollies.
A nearby busker played guitarAnd sang a bluesy songAbout the tragic life he'd ledWhere everything went wrong.
His mother never wanted himHis father called him namesHis sister played with matchesSo their house went up in flames.

And every single line he sangWas sadder than the last The people gave him moneyAs, respectfully, they passed.
Alas, my grin got bigger stillDespite his tragic rhymesAnd when the busker swore at meIt echoed several times.
The busker didn't care for it,He lifted his guitarAnd showed me how convenientFor whacking things they are.
Police pulled up and collared me,The cause of all the fuss'Does someone own this grinning child?'My parents said, 'Not us.'
'You're lying!' the police declared,'It's absolutely clear.You'd better make him wear a bagAnd get him out of here.'
We couldn’t find the hypnotistWho’d started all the strife.‘He can't go out like this,’ said Dad.‘We’re stuck with him for life.’

As usual, my dad was wrong.I'm very pleased to sayI broke the dreaded Yay Boo spell By shouting out 'Boo Yay!'
And now my face is beautiful,I promise that it's trueAnd if you don't believe meThen to you I say, 'Yay Boo!'