Poppa Zetire will search late at night, <br />To find your four tires, he'll be very quite; <br /> <br />Moving about while lookin' very slow, <br />For the air in your tires, he plans to let go; <br /> <br />It's for the bad things that you may have done, <br />Your tires, he plays with, be now his fun; <br /> <br />His strike at each tire may just send, <br />Gushing therefrom, a mighty big wind; <br /> <br />With quickness, your tires will get a big slice, <br />Inconvienence is for you, cause you're not very nice; <br /> <br />To poke each tire with a soft gentle swing, <br />You'll need to be close to hear the air leaking; <br /> <br />Look good at those tires that you once had, <br />Now while your car sits, Poppa is sure glad; <br /> <br />You'll quickly fix them, again and again, <br />While Poppa Zetire keeps wearing a grin;<br /><br />Tony Avila Sampson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poppa-zetire/
