Sunday, October 31, 2010

Casey at the Bat

Casey was once at the bat,
And liked to hit the ball,
He was the best player there was,
He made other teams bawl.

One time he did strike out,
in a cloud of dust,
Thayer would write his story,
Of his huge disgust.

After that he got a job,
Working in a shop,
He started fixing cars,
With his old pop-pop.

One time he broke his leg,
Changing a simple tire,
His manager cried negligence,
And soon he got fired.

With no job he started crack,
Then became a dealer,
When he ran out of stuff,
He then became a stealer.

He got caught and thrown in jail,
And had a roommate who stabbed,
He was a wuss and couldn't defend,
He wished he didn't get nabbed.

He then died old, lame and blue,
Never returned to fame,
Imagine where he could have been,
But Thayer is the one to blame.

No comments:

Post a Comment