Jack and Jill went up the hill.
But that story’s been told before.
At the top a shack they found.
Then they proceeded to kick in the door.
The inside was pleasant to their surprise.
They couldn’t have wished for more.
They drank some cider that was found.
Then soon they began to snore.
They woke in the dark with foggy eyes.
Their heads were appropriately sore.
Their laughter now was in the past.
The fear they couldn’t ignore.
Hours of pain they had endured.
In silence they lay on the floor.
The owner came home just after sunrise.
And the rest became folklore.