Dead Squirrel



Dead squirrel, flat on the ground.
How did you die? Dead squirrel.
Was it cars driving by? Dead squirrel.
Did someone think you'd make a good dead squirrel tie? Dead squirrel.

Dead squirrel you frightened me. With your dead squirrel frozen face of agony.
Oh dead squirrel! Dead squirrel! You died.

Why did you die, dead squirrel.
Were you a good squirrel?
Did you share your squirrel nuts?
Were you a bad squirrel?
Did you spread disease and such?
Oh dead squirrel. Please! Please! Please! Tell me why!

How did you die, dead squirrel?
Was it a child with a bee bee gun, taking aim at you for fun.
Or was it Ox, the rabid pit bull, that grabbed and then shook you.
Was it a bad drug, dropped by gang thugs, dealing outside!
Oh dead squirrel. Dead squirrel! You died.

Poor dead squirrel, that must of been a bad ride.

Posted by Monkeyspit at December 30, 2004 9:20 AM

Comments

Hahaha, awesome poem.

Posted by: C at January 17, 2005 6:51 PM
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