Silly childhood game - Uncle Wiggily
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I cower in abject horror
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Approaching space number 109
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Home of the gaunt and haggard shell of the Skeezix
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The emaciated figure
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Harboring the greed of a thousand
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Invading, thriving, ascaris whittles away
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The self confidence of young minds
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Casting doubt that they will
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Ever reach the finish
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To see for themselves
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The segacious Uncle Wiggily
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His mission now is complete
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The arboreal king of misery and woe
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Skeezix reposes high on a knotty forest crag
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And the child still tries his best to
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Stay in the game
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But with insufficient, no volition
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Plotted course of demolition
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Goes through all the motions
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Musing caveat emptor and
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A predetermined failure
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He draws a card and all his fears come true
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Advance to 109
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That's what you have to do
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When Mr. Skeezix becomes Mr. Jones
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Or you, or me
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Just think of what it does to wreck
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A child of two or three
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They know and feel much more than
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We will give them credit for
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And all they want in life from you
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Is love and nothing more
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When painful eyes begin to cringe
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When you walk through the door
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Remember children are a gift of love
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Sent from the Lord
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The Skeezix Dilemma
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Tourniquet |