Whether the Dweebs
One summer afternoon, the snow was all around
I awoke, I snored, I screamed but made no sound
To outer space I feared I must
Relinquish all my earthly goods and trust
But then Fred Flinstone assured me
That all was well, no longer must I flee
But the Great Gazoo had other plans`
To scratch my itch and sear my hands
Contributors: | Nym, Karin, Francine. |
Poem finished: | 17th July 2003. |