Personal Blog.

The shovel.

Ultimate Charity.

A man in a sewerage ditch,
Said it was a bitch,
And he did wildly shout,
Asking me to pull him out.
For in excrement which did stink,
He up to his chest did sink.

But it him confused,
When I refused.
Then he said that any man who went to church,
Would never leave him in the lurch.
And after he did curse and swear,
He said I was unfair.

But though in the muck - I refused to wade,
I threw to him a spade.
And as I wished to my energy conserve,
While I did the work observe,
On soft ground, quite flat,
Myself I carefully sat.

Then from my flask, I took a healthy swig,
As I watched him start to dig.
For he himself did strain,
To his freedom gain.
And at last, when his energy was almost obsolete,
He did his task complete.

But then when he did me abuse,
He did me not confuse.
For later as he went his way,
I knew it wouldn't come the day,
When a sewerage ditch, one more time,
Would his world confine.