|
~soup kitchen NOT©I was sitting outside on my stoop, enjoying the day and my chicken soup. The phone rang and i ran to pick it up. I came back out, there sat an empty cup. Well how do you like that, so i thought: all of it gone, every last drop. Along came a fly, with broth on his wing. I couldn't believe my eyes, now i've seen everything. A fly who likes soup, but don't even share. He then has the nerve, to see if there's more to spare. The rest is all mine, you silly fool. Be on your way, soup is only good for the caring soul. So don't come near my stoop, if you're hungry and looking for soup! Hey neighbor: there's a fly in my soup BUT there's bats in my belfry! Copyright ©2006~S@L~ Vote for this poem |
|
| |