Zillah attended a top public school,
With ancient traditions and numerous rules.
They taught girls deportment and ladylike graces,
And Latin on Sundays (yes, one of those places).
In short, it was perfect for those who aspired
To get on in life and be greatly admired.

Zillah had boarded from quite a young age.
Her parents had rapidly got to the stage,
Where Zillah’s demands for parental attention
Had caused quite significant marital tension.
Her mother resented the mess and the noise,
And Father was missing his golf with the boys.

So Zillah was packed off to school with a wave.
“Don’t cry,” they exhorted, “come on now, be brave!”
But things went awry and soon phone calls ensued,
The girl seldom spoke and was often subdued.
Her housemaster told them she still wet the bed,
Perhaps she could be a day pupil instead?

But Mr and Mrs Godiva demurred,
Explaining that Zillah could surely be cured.
“She just needs some time to make friends and join in,
She’s much better there,” said her dad with a grin.
“And anyway, we’re going off on a cruise.
Just don’t forget how much in fees you would lose!”

Eventually after some months of distress,
Their daughter no longer seemed quite so depressed.
Indeed, as her teachers were pleased to report,
Young Zillah was coping without their support.
Her parents concluded she’d turned out alright.
But nobody knew what she did late at night!

As soon as her classmates were tucked up in bed,
Young Zillah climbed out of the window instead.
Across the school grounds she made off like a thief,
And reached the school fence which she crawled underneath.
Not too far beyond was a hut in a wood,
And there, sad to say, she got up to no good.

After some time came a knock at the door,
And in came some friends she had met there before.
Their pockets were stuffed full of chocolates and sweets,
While Zillah had crisps and a bagful of treats.
They turned on some music and kicked off their shoes,
Then somebody brought out a bottle of booze…

Zillah was shocked, but could be led astray,
She worried about what her school friends would say.
She’d always been known as a bit of a prude,
And not joining in would have made her seem rude.
So steeling herself, she held out an old cup,
Which to her dismay, was completely filled up.

Zillah downed all of the strong-tasting drink,
Her two so-called friends gave each other a wink.
They topped up her cup and then plied her with more,
Till Zillah turned white and collapsed on the floor.
The poor girl was killed by a litre of gin,
Consumed in the hope it would make her fit in.