jplatt915
I am a Collage
My Dads temper and his nose
My moms smile when it shows
My Grandads hands that are so large
My Grandma's spirit to be in charge
How would Madonna define success? How bout Mother Teresa?
Under a Bridge is were the Critter Slept
Near the Rail Road tracks is were old Critter wept
And in a 55 Gallon drum his few belongings were kept
There were legends as to how he came to this place
Like the one that proclaimed he was once an ex Air-force Ace
But no one had the courage to ask him to his face
I learned that the Viet Cong had cost him his leg
In the place of his foot there was only a peg
And now to eat poor old Critter would sit and would beg
Now the worst part of this story is something we should all know
For his bravery and his service he had nothing to show
You see poor ole critters pillow was a rock and his mattress was the snow
Oh how sad was this story of a fallen hero you see
I just couldn't understand how this even could be
This poor crippled critter fought so we could be free