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The Oyster
There once was an oyster
who's story I tell,
who found that some sand
had got into it's shell.
It was only a grain,
But it gave him great pain.
for oysters have feelings
Although there so plain.
Now, did he berate
The harsh workings of fate
That had brough him
To such deplorable state?
Did he curse at the goverment,
Cry for election,
And clain that the sea should
Have giving him protection?
No- he said to himself
As he lay on a shell,
Since i can't remove it,
I shall try to improve it.
Now the years have rolled around,
As the years they always do,
And he came to his ultimate
Destiny- stew.
And the small grain of sand
That had bothered him so
Was a beautiful pearl
All richy and aglow.
Now the tale is has a moral;
For isn't it grand
What an oyster can do
With a morsel of sand?
What couldnt we do
If we only begin
With some of the things
That get under our skin.
