easypoem @ www.aipoem.com

March 23, 2011

The last piece of money is gone;
How did it disappear?
The bowl of delicious stuffing Has also vanished,
I fear.
It happens each Thanksgiving,
When leftover goodies flee,
And each of us knows the responsible one Couldn¡¯t be you or me.
The only way it could happen Is readily diagnosed;
It must be the crafty,
incredibly sneaky,
Still hungry
Thanksgiving a good person.

--- easypoem ---

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