Melancholy pie ending

I read it in the Sunday Times
That you were convicted of crimes
I found myself quite mad at you
Like the cat that wouldn't eat the poo
But all, as it transpired, was well
Or seemed to be, but you never can tell
The sun was shining and everyone smiled
The Happiness Index forms were filed
And Permit B-7 obtained for EXCITEMENT!
Though his failure to enter his excess right meant
The permit was void and his license invalid
He wasn't even allowed to make fruit salad
Unless he got a court order
He sat down with a glass of water
And simply watched the world go by
While eating steak & kidney pie.

Recipe for disaster

There was an old woman who swallowed a shoe,
It's not the sort of thing she'd normally do.
The recipe came from the Fat Duck cookbook,
And requires Worcester sauce and a lot of luck
Which never seems to come my way
And so, I resign myself to stay
At home, and do the Listener weekly,
And send in the solution meekly
But alas, we never get the prize
The prize of the pies that are made of lies
Our entries are just never quite good enough
We're not really cut out for that sort of stuff.
However, we're awesome at making mince pies
Though eating them isn't entirely wise.
The pastry is laced with a poison so potent
You'd be well advised to stay in yo' tent.

The Karaoke Deity

Drawing and poetry go hand in hand
Like Ant and Dec or sea and sand.
They make such a harmonious pair
They sing the song from Go Compare
At Karaoke on Wednesday nights
He had a young woman in his sights.
He tried to impress her with a song,
At a karaoke club in Hong Kong.
Where Kung Fu experts liked to gather
And practice kicks; or, if they'd rather
Sometimes punches. It was a sight!
I thought it would go on all night
But God stepped in to stop the fight,
He broke it up with his godly might.
His smiting days were behind him. he felt
He slowly removed his smiting belt
And hung up his Smiting Pants in the hallway
That's how it went - I don't care what they all say.