The spleen can be a peculiar thing
Riding high just above the jeans
When it no longer serves its purpose
And the doctors say that it must leave
Oh how the spleen once stood so proud
With the vertebrates in the local crowd
Now we give it the old collage wave
As the doctors toss it out
Where it goes nobody knows
To spleen heaven? Do they have those?
If all dogs go to heaven
Then with spleens we can only hope
That one day we will reunite
With our missing spleens in paradise
If you ask me that sounds real nice
I just hope they keep it on ice
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
The spleen can be a peculiar thing
Riding high just above the jeans
When it no longer serves its purpose
And the doctors say that it must leave
Oh how the spleen once stood so proud
With the vertebrates in the local crowd
Now we give it the old collage wave
As the doctors toss it out
Where it goes nobody knows
To spleen heaven? Do they have those?
If all dogs go to heaven
Then with spleens we can only hope
That one day we will reunite
With our missing spleens in paradise
If you ask me that sounds real nice
I just hope they keep it on ice
I have a friend that her mother is being operated on tomorrow...removal of the spleen. Thought it called for a good (that's debatable) poem.
P.S. My friend loved it...not sure about her mother.
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