There once was a stupid old man <br />he was wrinkled and sat in the can <br />he did fret all day long <br />also sang a sad song <br />in the morning he ate only bran. <br /> <br />He admired frank people like me <br />though his brain was the size of a flea <br />and in different times <br />he would die for his crimes <br />Though the man was just honest and free. <br />I 'm his neighbour and proud to belong <br />to the race of the brave and the strong <br />but I can't understand <br />how his turcica gland <br />would be happy to sing its own song. <br /> <br />Yes the world has a terrible past <br />as so many would judge things so fast. <br /> Yet I was not the one <br />who would pull out his gun <br /> just to blast from this earth its own past. <br /> <br />And to turn all the tables at once <br />nurture hatred and do the hate dance <br />is a shitty old tactic <br />and in no way didactic <br />it's enough to give someone the runs.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-sad-neighbour/
