Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Whatever is the matter child?
You’ve such a pallid pall!
Why are you up so late tonight?
Can you not sleep at all?

You had a scary dream you say?
Oh dear, well that won’t do!
A dream about the Big Bad Wolf
and what he’d do to you?

In that case dear come close at hand,
would you a story hear?
The true tale of that Big Bad Wolf
that we unfairly fear.

The Big Bad Wolf, as you will see,
was not so big, or bad,
he simply tried the best he could
to keep the life he had

for poor old Wolf had lost his job,
a janitor no more,
His missus was no help alive,
She would not lift a paw

He had three pups, two girls, one boy,
he hoped they’d make him proud.
Alas between the three as yet
a brain was to be found.

So Poor Old Wolf, it’s fair to say,
Lived not a stellar life.
He had no job, three hopeless kids
and a less than helpful wife

So Poor Old wolf was out one night,
Seeking to drown his tears
And for one night forget about
His real and worldly fears.

A little girl came down the street,
In scarlet she was dressed,
A crimson hue, the press would say
was blood upon her breast

In her fair, fair arm she rested
a little wicker case
from which she passed out leaflets
with a smile upon her face.

She stopped before the Poor Old Wolf,
A pamphlet in her hand,
and said “Ignore how bad it seems,
the Lord will make it grand”.

She beamed up at him so brightly
Wolf’s tongue caught in his throat
and so Wolf took the leaflet
And tucked it in his coat,

Next Sunday morn, while sun was new,
Wolf found himself in church
and the unity he saw there
Set his old wolf’s heart a’lurch.

He sat amidst the people there
and listened to their song
and finally felt he’d found a place
in which he could belong.

The little girl who’d brought him in
was called Rebecca Red
and due to domestic issues
lived with her Nan instead.

And Wolf, he came to know them well,
All three became fast friends,
And to their house the Wolf would go
To share his short weekends.

He came to love Rebecca so,
the child he’d never had,
to see her smiling face each week
made his life feel less bland.

One such weekend the Wolf ran late,
He’d missed his bus and train,
It was gone light before he’d fought
his way there through the rain.


He knocked upon the dark wood door
and it swung slowly in.
How rare for Nan to leave it so….
and why no light within?

The Wolf went in and searched the rooms,
The kitchen and the hall,
But on the lower floor he found
no sign of them at all.

Wolf felt his fears were setting in
With each stair step he climbed
He gently cracked her bedroom door
and put his head inside.

She lay there in her scarlet dress.
Her pillow also red.
As he sat down beside her
and gently held her head

He could not think of words to say.
He sat there as if dead.
He tenderly held her in his arms.
His tears fell on her head.

And then came strobing, flashing lights.
A raucous siren’s roar.
A crowd of bodies dressed in black
That forced him to the floor.

“Don’t resist!” the black bodies yelled.
“You have the right to silence!”
“Don’t try to fight!” they yelled again.
“We will respond with violence!”

They dragged the Wolf outside with them
and threw him in their car,
With one of them on either side,
Their suits as black as tar.

And as the squad car pulled away
the camera storm began,
flashes like lightning through the glass
down which the real rain ran.


They dragged the Wolf to the precinct
and tossed him in a cell
then they heaped abuse upon him,
hoped he would rot in Hell

The Wolf was by now so confused,
Why was this going on?
Why was he in this barren cell?
What had he done so wrong?

The men that stood outside his cell,
The Barrow brothers three,
Were the finest units on the force
Their records exemplary.

I’ll not say what they did to him,
You do not want to know.
I’ll not say what they said to him,
words worse than any blow.

Suffice to say their conduct there
Got them fired from the force
But in their three, self-righteous, hearts
They felt no such remorse.

CHILD FOUND, BLOODSTAINED, KILLED BY THE WOLF!
The morning’s headline ran,
the nation out in sympathy for
‛Becky’ and her Nan.

The pity that the people felt,
Was quickly turned to hate.
The Big Bad Wolf must now be tried!
His punishment can’t wait!

He was dragged before the jury.
His pleas fell on deaf ears.
The Judge, Right Honourable William Woods,
Sentenced him sixty years.

He was dragged out from the courthouse,
They yelled “He should be dead!”
A lifetime spent in solitude
was “Too damn kind!”  They said.

As Wolf was pulled into the van
A thrown rock struck his head
Before he’d even reached the jail
The Big Bad Wolf was dead.

But this is not the stories end.
The full facts of that night,
of how the Wolf was innocent,
were later brought to light.

But it was far too late for Wolf,
For he is gone and dead.
And that is the end of the tale my child
Now off you go to bed.