Dinner

Bur mother have you seen the time?

It is now half past ten.

I think it ought to be a crime,

To starve me now and then.

The other mothers gone to bed,

I am but skin and bones.

This waiting fills me with such dread.

For what must I atone?

My belly aches, oh woe is me.

I beg to those with thumbs.

I only hope she hears my plea,

Or that she's not too dumb.

For I am but a simple beast.

You will do as I say.

For now, I must demand a feast!

Or lest I waste away.

A ringing bell she heeds my calls.

I tap tap run to eat.

But in my bowl I can't recall,

My favor for this meat.

I feel dreadfully awestricken,

I hate I must admit.

Though I wish that it were chicken.

Now, please get rid of it.