West Country Doughnut Disaster by S.N.W. Tolstoy

I skipped up to the counter with my little boy in tow
Our heads filled up with visions of delight
The face behind the counter showed a sadness
A vision of the day turned into night
I’m sorry sir he said, hearing what we were about
But all of the doughnuts have run out

Well the kids took it well but the dads they were a mess
With threats and imprecations, floods of silent tears
As our children, quite embarrassed, were forced to turned away
It was every grown man’s nightmare – the sum total of our fears
And every man there present gave a heart-broken shout
On the day that the doughnuts ran out

And those who bear the scars of that terrible day
Who made it through by strength of will alone
The children who had led them
Broken, sobbing to their homes
Would sometimes have nightmares – but never speak about
The day that the doughnuts
Ran out