18 April 2012
In front of a fire, coffee in hand,
The man, he sits and thinks and plans.
"this world is mine" he says and hopes,
"but first I must check on my goats"
So check he does, and fine they are,
All of them gazing at the star,
Where miles away their friend resides,
A friendly goat with friendly eyes.
He moved away a year ago,
For reasons only he does know.
But happy he is, in that distant place,
Much happier than the stone with the face.
He has a nose, some eyes and ears,
But emotion is what he fears,
You see he is a stone, and cannot move,
So the only face he pulls is rude.
Not like the clown with his bright red nose,
But he has problems with which he chose
To run from, hide and live with the goats,
With the rock and the man,
On the old wooden boat.
Chatting Shit. • Opuss № I