Said the manicure scissors one day, <br />'The shears always have their own way, <br />And I think it absurd <br />That I am deterred <br />From entering into life's fray. <br /> <br />My task might be jolly for snails, <br />But I must confess that it fails <br />To give pleasure to me; <br />I am sick as can be <br />Of snipping the ends of pink nails. <br /> <br />I want to do work like the shears!' <br />So the scissors set out it appears, <br />And very much wroth <br />They tried to cut cloth, <br />And so split themselves open, my dears. <br /> <br />And the cloth, well you should have seen that; <br />It looked as if gnawed by a rat. <br />Now little folks, you <br />Must not think you can do <br />Whatever your elders are at.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-discontented-manicure-scissors/
