Friday, the rabbit saw red....

Why smash your stuff to smithereens?
Some chalked it up to angry genes,
Some swore her temper came from stress,
Some said she had bad PMS.

Some blamed that rat she used to date,
He left her for a squirrel named Kate,
Others said it was her job,
Assistant to a pig named Bob.

But could they make her feel so blue
that she'd rip her best things in two?
It wasn't clear. You can't blame them.
Maybe she needed Sarafem!

The rabbit's therapist, of course,
Had told her never to use force.
Whenever she was feeling blue,
She had to find something to do.

"Use emotions productively!
The peacock struts seductively!
The lion roars! The caged bird sings!
Instead of breaking all their things!"

But when a dozen things got broke,
The rabbit laughed, it was a joke!
And then she'd go out to the store,
And come home with a dozen more!

The rabbit really was quite nice,
But unconcerned with good advice.


At least, for now...

Goodness! I'd love to know what inspired this piece.

One day, the rabbit got so mad
She smashed up everything she had.
She was so swift, and sure, and deft,
That this time, there was nothing left!

Just a bottle cap or two
And a tub of Elmer's Glue.
She even threw her pile of cash
in the trashcan, with the trash!

So now she couldn't buy new junk.
This put the rabbit in a funk...

She spilled the glue across the floor!
She threw the tub right out the door!
She squeezed the bottle caps till bent,
then dropped them down the heating vent!

And when the rabbit was all done
She felt worse than when she'd begun.
She looked around for things to break,
And knew she'd made a big mistake.

The rabbit, she was so depressed
She didn't care about the mess.

At least, not yet...

The next morning, the rabbit woke
And the whole world seemed like a joke.
her mood was black, yes, worse than bad
despite the good old stuff she had.

She wondered now, "Was it a trap?
To spend time fixing such old crap?"
It made her angry! What a waste!
To fix her stuff with such great haste!

She thought about her pointless job.
She thought about that asshole Bob.
She thought about that stupid rat
Who left her for that slut named Kat.

And it all seemed like such a mess.
This wasn't genes or PMS.
No, everything seemed bad and wrong!
How had she lived this way so long?

So, feeling pissed off at herself,
she took the big tool from the shelf
And then she learned, with one great swing,
How good it was for smashing things!

And so the rabbit vowed to leave,
Once finished with this heave-ho-heave
of crushing everything in sight.
Destruction was a pure delight!


At least, for a minute....

And so the tool swung with great force,
And all was ruined, yes, of course!
And when she killed off all her cares,
she threw the big tool down the stairs
where it cracked a concrete slab.

And with that, she called a cab



The rabbit didn't see the crack,
It wasn't her style to look back,
There was no time to fix her head
She thought of the future instead.

At least, for now...

MORAL:

The tools that fix the things you save,
Can send them to an early grave.
Starting over can seem cleaner
But the grass is always greener
You learn more from the stuff you've kept
Growing is knowing what you have to accept.

words
Polly Esther

pictures
Terry Colon


Lifted entirely from suck.com (they will sue our asses 4 sure!)

nice lift, stilly!

Loved it. Thanks for the theft.

Blimey

You are still winking, bun-huns!!