Monkey, monkey on my back, should I make you hit the rails clickety clack.

Hit the rails, this time for real, clickety clack, how does it feel, to be the one being made to sqeal.

Scratching, itching, gnawing at truth, and you're the one who's calling me uncouth.

Watching, waiting, and deciding if, when, and how, should I tame this monkey, or let it drown.

If I should let the monkey drown, then will I be, confident, calm, and settled down?

Or will I wander, constantly, looking, and waiting, for another monkey to drop down and land on me?

©2001 Lloydene F. Hill