The shop is dark

The candles lit

Its long gone closing time

Yet the doorbell tinkles

And a man walks in

Dragging a little boy, his face streaked with grime

"Is that you Bumble?"

Asks the undertaker

"No-one else, Mr. Sowerberry!"

The beadle replies

"I've brought the orphan. Oliver Twist."

The boy at his heels bows and gives a small sigh

His face is wan and sad

Most melancholy indeed

The undertaker looks at him with a kindly smile

"So this is the orphan is it?" he says

Eyes wide

"We'll see how he does before we give you your pay"

Bumble frowns

But then he nods

Donning his hat and making to leave

Oliver Twist was left

In the Sowerberry's care

He had just cause to grieve