mhall46184@aol.com
An Earthworm in Flood-Time
If that poor worm remained in his earthy lair
He then would drown in mud and muck and mould
And if that worm crawled up to breathe the air
A robin would eat him as a luncheon cold
He had to make a choice…
And as he died the poor worm cried:
“Mid-term elections! Everybody lied!”
No comments:
Post a Comment