I was going through my old file folders yesterday, and I discovered this absolute gem of poetry. It’s rather terrible, quite absurd, and has a moral which is totally incorrect and should definitely never be learned by any child ever. Cringe and enjoy!
A Toothbrush’s Tale
***
Fred the toothbrush was a sorry sight,
For his toothbrush friends knew not his sad plight.
This young little toothbrush was unhappy, you see,
His plastic casing oppressed him; he sought to be free!
***
“But Fred,” his mother said, “That’s quite absurd,”
“All toothbrushes are plastic, haven’t you heard?
I love you, my son, but to be quite frank,
Your mental skills I couldn’t take to the bank.”
***
Disheartened and miserable, Fred looked away,
And resolved to leave town the very next day.
Away from Toothbrushia little Fred would fly,
For hope gave him wings, much like a pie.
***
Far past the Cheesecake Mountains he flew,
Dodging the cavities, root canals, and goo,
Then to Toffee Lake, that abominable mess,
Delight of little children, but alas, I digress.
***
Finally came our hero to a castle on the sand,
Where, waving from the window, was a tiny old man.
“Come, little toothbrush, I can help you!”
Cried the old man, sitting on the loo.
***
Eagerly young Fred alighted at his side,
“I hate being plastic,” the poor toothbrush cried.
“Don’t worry!” the man said, “That form’s such a joke!
Soon you’ll metamorphize into an oak!”
***
“An oak?” Fred stammered. “But what can that be?”
“Why, you silly toothbrush, an oak is a tree!”
“But I don’t want to be wooden,” the toothbrush said.
“Don’t worry,” the man chuckled, “it’s like being dead.”
***
Terrified, poor Fred ran for the door,
But the old man pinned him via two-by-four.
“Abracadabra!” he cackled with glee.
And just like that, Fred turned into a tree.
***
The good folks of Toothbrushia soon forget Fred had left,
They cried for a while, but they weren’t very bereft.
So you see, little children, the point of this story,
Don’t complain, and don’t whine, or you’ll be sorry.
***
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