Post by Emily on Nov 29, 2005 19:17:54 GMT -5
It's kinda long and makes no sense, but enjoy none the less.
Little Timothy was never a pest
He was a smart young lad, who always did best
Yet, this could not foretell the most terrible fate
On a boy whose life had been always great
Now, not only was he brilliant but curious too
and we know what curiosity made the cat do
But to our friend, Timothy, this was no worry
As he took off to follow his pet mouse in a hurry
It scampered down hallways so fast and so quick
It squeezed in tight corners and was so slick
That Timothy had a hard time following its path
And soon began to feel a sharp pang of wrath
He tried to keep this angry feeling down
But in doing so, his face made a large frown
As he sat in the corner with his head in his hands
His mother came and found him…with plenty of demands
“Now, Timothy,” she said, “What’s this fuss all about?
“Why not go outside? It’s a lovely day out
Also, you have plenty of chores
So don’t sit around here looking all bored!”
After she left, Timothy felt lonely and sad
Why did he feel so very mad?
He began to pout and then he got a plan!
And thus, his little adventure began
“If I were a mouse, what would I do?
Where would I go? Would I hide in a shoe?
Maybe I’d be in the kitchen, eating some cheese
Or frolicking in fields, doing as I please!
Now, if I were a mouse, I’d be rather smart
For a mouse knows very well in its heart
That going outside would be an unsafe thing to do.”
So he looked around for a clue
He’d last seen the mouse dashing out the door
So he decided to sneak around and explore
He quietly made his way outside
And found that his poor mouse had died!
Furious and sad beyond belief
Poor little Timothy was struck with grief
He fell unto the ground crumpled with despair
That he failed to see his mother was there
“Timothy, dear, don’t you fret!
We’ll get you another nice pet
How about a bird, some fish or a frog
Wouldn’t you like a cat or a dog?”
But little Timothy with his eyes filled with tears
Just couldn’t let go his mouse of three years
If only his mother understood his distress
Then maybe the issue of a new pet she wouldn’t press
He looked at the body, so brown and so small
He wondered why its life had to end at all
And so very carefully, he picked up the tiny corpse mouse
As he made his way solemnly back into the house
As his tears rolled softly down his cheeks
He swore he heard a very soft squeak
Oh, he thought, it just can’t be!
My little mouse is gone from me
But to his surprise, the little creature began to stir
And he could feel the warmth of its fur
Perhaps it hadn’t really died
But even so, Timothy cried
For he had imagined the mouse this whole time
And surely, this craziness was a crime
For his mother was tolerant of his mental state
And coming face to face with his insanity was poor Timothy’s fate
Little Timothy was never a pest
He was a smart young lad, who always did best
Yet, this could not foretell the most terrible fate
On a boy whose life had been always great
Now, not only was he brilliant but curious too
and we know what curiosity made the cat do
But to our friend, Timothy, this was no worry
As he took off to follow his pet mouse in a hurry
It scampered down hallways so fast and so quick
It squeezed in tight corners and was so slick
That Timothy had a hard time following its path
And soon began to feel a sharp pang of wrath
He tried to keep this angry feeling down
But in doing so, his face made a large frown
As he sat in the corner with his head in his hands
His mother came and found him…with plenty of demands
“Now, Timothy,” she said, “What’s this fuss all about?
“Why not go outside? It’s a lovely day out
Also, you have plenty of chores
So don’t sit around here looking all bored!”
After she left, Timothy felt lonely and sad
Why did he feel so very mad?
He began to pout and then he got a plan!
And thus, his little adventure began
“If I were a mouse, what would I do?
Where would I go? Would I hide in a shoe?
Maybe I’d be in the kitchen, eating some cheese
Or frolicking in fields, doing as I please!
Now, if I were a mouse, I’d be rather smart
For a mouse knows very well in its heart
That going outside would be an unsafe thing to do.”
So he looked around for a clue
He’d last seen the mouse dashing out the door
So he decided to sneak around and explore
He quietly made his way outside
And found that his poor mouse had died!
Furious and sad beyond belief
Poor little Timothy was struck with grief
He fell unto the ground crumpled with despair
That he failed to see his mother was there
“Timothy, dear, don’t you fret!
We’ll get you another nice pet
How about a bird, some fish or a frog
Wouldn’t you like a cat or a dog?”
But little Timothy with his eyes filled with tears
Just couldn’t let go his mouse of three years
If only his mother understood his distress
Then maybe the issue of a new pet she wouldn’t press
He looked at the body, so brown and so small
He wondered why its life had to end at all
And so very carefully, he picked up the tiny corpse mouse
As he made his way solemnly back into the house
As his tears rolled softly down his cheeks
He swore he heard a very soft squeak
Oh, he thought, it just can’t be!
My little mouse is gone from me
But to his surprise, the little creature began to stir
And he could feel the warmth of its fur
Perhaps it hadn’t really died
But even so, Timothy cried
For he had imagined the mouse this whole time
And surely, this craziness was a crime
For his mother was tolerant of his mental state
And coming face to face with his insanity was poor Timothy’s fate
