You can be my boss
If I can be your hoss
Ride me on the plain of pain
Up onto the butte of cute
I'll carry you to the fold of old
And listen while you scold me boldly
Everyone loves a quirky jerk
But what you need is a noble steed
An all-weather sturdy companion
Steady for you, bridle to stantion
Working for fodder until I dodder
Who keeps going as long as I'm fed
Ever useful even if dead
Make me into fancy cat food
Boil me down to sticky white glue
I'm your machine to trim the grass
Turn lawn to fertilizer and gas
Sleep in a stall on a bed of road apples
Be a work horse for you and your people
Of course a good pet is easy to forget
You'll hardly weep when they put me to sleep
Look at me, in false misery
Churning out rhymes in a trite series
Leave me here now, or put out to pasture,
I'll even slow down, so you can go faster.
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