I Once Met A Weasel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I think the weasel has something to add.

...

I couldn't have said it better, so I wont.

Submitted: June 15, 2008

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Submitted: June 15, 2008

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I once met a weasel,
I shook it's little hand.
It greeted me with some words,
that I could not understand.
None-the-less we talked some more,
and I made some funny jokes.
But then that weasel squealed on me,
and told so many folks.
I now live within padded walls,
and take a lot of pills.
"It's good for you." say men in white,
they say the weasel's what it kills.
But no matter how long,
I stay within those walls.
Or no matter how many,
pills they drop into my jaw.
That weasel always come back to visit,
for it is my torment it is after.
And always when it looks at me,
it gives off the loudest of laughter.


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