Ronnie Rotten and the Beast

Ronnie Rotten stomped his shoes,
He huffed, he puffed, he blew a fuse.
He clenched his fists, he kicked the ground,
And steam came whooshing all around!

His sister whispered, “Oh, watch out!”
His teacher sighed, “Another shout.”
His mother moaned, “He’ll cook his brain—
That boy’s a walking hurricane!”

For Ronnie’s temper, fierce and hot,
Would tie him in a twisted knot.
And every time he lost control,
The Rotten Beast would take its toll.

But one fine day, he yelled so loud,
It scared the pigeons, cleared a crowd.
Then Ronnie stopped and heard a sound—
A voice inside him, small, yet round:

“Hey Ronnie boy, it’s time you see,
The Rotten Beast inside is me.
I only roar, I only bite,
Because you never hold me tight.”

Ronnie froze—his jaw went slack,
He’d never heard the Beast talk back!
So Ronnie breathed, and whispered low,
“Alright, my Beast… it’s time we grow.”

He counted ten, then counted more,
The steam stopped seeping from his core.
He tamed the beast, he calmed the flame,
And Restful Ron became his name.

Now when he feels that thunderstorm,
He takes a breath, he changes form.
No longer Rotten, fierce, and wrong—
He sings a quiet, steady song.

And all the kids who see him grin
Say, “Teach us, Ron—so we can win!”