Friday, February 12, 2010

Carrots...

This poem is dedicated to the pile of carrots I discovered in my street yesterday...

Oh pretty pile of carrots,
How did you end up there?
Perhaps tossed from a car
By a jerk, who did not care

Oh pretty pile of carrots,
Are those peppers among your ranks?
Thank God you're not alone
For that I will give thanks

Oh pretty pile of carrots,
Had I not seen you, I'd have slipped
But I did, so I stepped over
And wondered how you'd be w/ dip

Oh pretty pile of carrots,
You may have tasted nice
Now you're smooshed down flat
Under a sheet of snow and ice

Oh pretty pile of carrots,
Your sad story makes me cry
Soon the street sweeper will come
And we will say "goodbye"



Adios, pile of carrots. You're the most random thing I've ever stepped over.

1 comment:

  1. I can't even stand it. It is so ridiculous how you became attached to that pile of carrots so quickly. It reminds me of your catepillar friend that you love dearly and now is gone. You are so sweet Meta.

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