There once was a man
Who only thought about things
And never thought that things
Never thought about him.
He clamors to the thought
Of having more things
Without giving his things
A thought.
The sun would rise
The moon would set
The moon would rise
The sun would set
Another day passes
Without a thought
Till all there was left
Was his things.
Open for a critique! this is my first post, and I would like to carry on this theme of writing for my daughter