Hell is the abundance of shod

by Thomas R.

In Hell he found himself
And in hell he shall stay
Who was this man
It does not matter we say
For soon he will be like all
Forced to live our way
For hell is the abundance of shod

He learns it is worst in Christmas
With the rain of toys or gadgets damned
Suddenly copies of the same computer fall like hail
We laugh as with them he is slammed
But cry when we feel the same
No pity among us hence we are damned
Surrounded by the shod

Testing times are also hard
He learns the lesson well
Staying clear of the raining pencils or pains
Until by a desk is he fell
Only to heal within an hour
To return to this life of Hell
Do you get it?

For every time you damn a thing
A pencil, a computer, a car,
Or even wedding ring
It falls on all our heads
And triples all our suffering
So be careful will you?
Thanks for this airing.

Copyright © 2002 by Thomas R.