The Time has come for me to tell
The time has come for me to tell,
A story that comes straight from hell,
You should not read on if you are weak of heart,
In fact you should quit at the start,
It all begins on a glorious day,
Of course all stories, like this, start out that way,
The sun was out and shinning bright,
And it was such a beautiful sight,
The kind of day that prods you on,
To accomplish much and mow the lawn,
With this chore done, I looked around,
Can you guess what I found?
Two dogs were standing there patiently waiting,
To play ball they were anticipating,
Each had a ball with which to play,
Held in their mouth in just the right way,
OK I said, I will play with you,
But only with one ball and not two,
With the selection done, we started to play,
I would throw the ball and the dogs would run that way,
For a while it was apparent to me,
The dogs were chasing the ball with much glee,
Then I noticed that they were slowing down,
Yes, even stopping and lying on the ground,
The cause of this was plain to see,
It was right there in front of me,
Over the winter their fur had grown long,
Like the lawn it needed to be gone,
So to the garage I went in a hurry,
To get the clippers for dogs that are too furry,
When out of the garage I came with this tool,
Littlefoot ran for his house, saying he was no fool,
He said, he was happy with his fur and for me to leave it alone,
From deep within the house he said he was not home,
I looked around for another victim,
She was close at hand and without this wisdom,
Poor old Meg had no idea about this tool of torture,
She came willing to me and let me catch her,
I did not think this would happen again,
But held her tight as I was about to begin,
I turned it on and she started to shiver,
She shuddered and shook and began to quiver,
I could see the clippers needed to be tightened down,
A screwdriver needed to be found,
One last time I will tell you here,
To leave these words if you don’t want to fear,
For now is the time when the story turns dark,
There will be no blame if you depart,
To continue on will take much courage,
Please do not forget from these words I tried to discourage,
A long thin screwdriver I had in my hand as I weeped,
Between the thumb and forefinger it was buried deep,
The memory of how this happened I am ashamed to say,
Will haunt me from now to my dying day,
Embedded there an inch and a half down,
Natalya jumped up and boy at me did she frown,
I swiftly pulled it out with a sucking pop,
And to the ground I let it drop,
Blood was squirting here and there,
Natalya was ducking trying not to get some in her hair,
To the bathroom I ran holding the wound tight,
When I looked at it what a horrible sight,
I wrapped it with a towel and was hopping up and down,
I was hoping that in blood I would not drown,
The pain washed away the glorious day,
That is all I have further to say.
A story that comes straight from hell,
You should not read on if you are weak of heart,
In fact you should quit at the start,
It all begins on a glorious day,
Of course all stories, like this, start out that way,
The sun was out and shinning bright,
And it was such a beautiful sight,
The kind of day that prods you on,
To accomplish much and mow the lawn,
With this chore done, I looked around,
Can you guess what I found?
Two dogs were standing there patiently waiting,
To play ball they were anticipating,
Each had a ball with which to play,
Held in their mouth in just the right way,
OK I said, I will play with you,
But only with one ball and not two,
With the selection done, we started to play,
I would throw the ball and the dogs would run that way,
For a while it was apparent to me,
The dogs were chasing the ball with much glee,
Then I noticed that they were slowing down,
Yes, even stopping and lying on the ground,
The cause of this was plain to see,
It was right there in front of me,
Over the winter their fur had grown long,
Like the lawn it needed to be gone,
So to the garage I went in a hurry,
To get the clippers for dogs that are too furry,
When out of the garage I came with this tool,
Littlefoot ran for his house, saying he was no fool,
He said, he was happy with his fur and for me to leave it alone,
From deep within the house he said he was not home,
I looked around for another victim,
She was close at hand and without this wisdom,
Poor old Meg had no idea about this tool of torture,
She came willing to me and let me catch her,
I did not think this would happen again,
But held her tight as I was about to begin,
I turned it on and she started to shiver,
She shuddered and shook and began to quiver,
I could see the clippers needed to be tightened down,
A screwdriver needed to be found,
One last time I will tell you here,
To leave these words if you don’t want to fear,
For now is the time when the story turns dark,
There will be no blame if you depart,
To continue on will take much courage,
Please do not forget from these words I tried to discourage,
A long thin screwdriver I had in my hand as I weeped,
Between the thumb and forefinger it was buried deep,
The memory of how this happened I am ashamed to say,
Will haunt me from now to my dying day,
Embedded there an inch and a half down,
Natalya jumped up and boy at me did she frown,
I swiftly pulled it out with a sucking pop,
And to the ground I let it drop,
Blood was squirting here and there,
Natalya was ducking trying not to get some in her hair,
To the bathroom I ran holding the wound tight,
When I looked at it what a horrible sight,
I wrapped it with a towel and was hopping up and down,
I was hoping that in blood I would not drown,
The pain washed away the glorious day,
That is all I have further to say.
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