The Mice Men
The Mice Men play,
They play all day.
They scurry to and fro.
They twitch their noses.
Through the roses,
They go.
Upon the bed, so large and soft,
A human sleeps aloft.
The Mice Men play.
Here lies cheese,
So they appease.
They play all day.
Whiskers on the human fingers,
A mouse man lingers.
He scurries back but the cheese is gone.
No cheese!
He does not appease.
His brethren lie about the lawn.
They are all dead,
From poison’s dread.
His fuzzy head, it shakes.
The fingers smell,
Of a vengeful knell.
A mouse man waits.
They’re tasty, oh so sweet and fresh,
The taste of the human flesh.
A mouse man eats.
A mouse man plays,
He plays all day,
He scurries to and fro.
He twitches his nose,
To the scent of a rose,
Closer to the red….
The Mice Men all lay dead.
0
0
0