Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out! She'd pout.
And so it piled up to the ceilings;
It cracked the windows, riled dad's feelings.
The garbage rolled on down the hallways
It raised the roof, it broke the wallways.
It smelled so bad the neighbors bolted.
All their friends were sorely revolted.
Stouts were run out of town; house burned down.
No comments:
Post a Comment