the sad scoop of the pitiable pumpkin
In my little kitchen sits
a pumpkin orange and fair
I bought it just because
I like to see him sitting there
But as I sit to eat my lunch
Upon my derierre,
The pumpkin takes up so much room
It seems its everywhere!
Where do I put my plate now that
The table isn't bare?
It's me or him! It's him or me!
I don't know how to share.
(Or to put it more succinctly:
He is getting in my hair.)
“Listen pumpkin, it's been real.
We're cool.” And then I sigh,
“But this place can't hold the both of us,
We'll have to say goodbye.
Yep, my gourd, it's come to this:
I think you must be pie.”