And instead of heated and passionate posting on the current slide down the shit hole I might/might not see coming, I am just going to waste some bandwidth with some other bandwidth I wasted on Thinking Ten. Call it bandwidth wasted - squared.
A little ditty I wrote off the prompt "Down in a Hole" - a tale of tragedy and triumph.
Down in a hole
Where only the big moles go
The intrepid cricket tripped and he slipped
Coming down hard on three of his hips
He struggled to rise
But much to his surprise
Where once there had been six legs
Now stood only five.
From that day forward
He walked with a limp
But no one, nor anyone
Called him a wimp
Because on his shoulder
For all to see
He carried that lost leg
And would wield it with glee
_______________________________
6 comments:
How lucky the cricket when he looses his home.
Unlike us he can just hop down the road and find another. And unlike us he doesn't have to claw his way out of a hole. No bankers or mortgage men does he have to deal with just finding the next field for his next meal.
I know there's a poem in there somewhere but I'm just not that up for rhyming today.
So watch out, spider, or you'll get clocked in one of your eyes by a swinging leg.
Mike, great little piece. A lot different from your usual, but you certainly pulled it off. I really liked that one!
Excellent surprise ending.
And the moral of the story is:
When life tears off your leg, make cricket bats.
My post about that will be up at 4: AM in the morning.
It's FUBAR, we can't fix FUBAR.
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