Skweeples aren’t people
Their foreheads are blue
They eat with their noses
And talk with them, too
Skweeples aren’t people
They laugh with their ears
They sleep upside down
And cry purple tears
Skweeples aren’t people
Their bodies are green
They play in the swamp
And they hate to be clean
Skweeples aren’t people
They live in old cars
They drink stagnant water
And eat lice and tar
Skweeples aren’t people
But they love each other
On Saturday night
They all call their mother
People aren’t skweeples
That’s easy to see
I don’t bother them
And they don’t bother me
Skweeples are skweeples
They do what they do
They belong in the open
Not locked in a zoo
by Richard W. Bray
Tags: Children's Literature, children’s poetry, Poetry, Skweeples
Laughter hope sock in the eye's Blog 