Fable of the Corpuscles
This story (or fable) is well known by most.
I’ve heard it repeated from coast to coast.
It involves two corpuscles, red to be sure.
Whose daily rewards had little allure.
Their home, by the way, was in the blood of a horse.
And their movement was dictated by a pulsing course.
Life didn’t seem lonely, if the thought may be interjected
‘Cause they met quite often where the vessels intersected.
Passing opposite their friend in a separate vein.
They would greet each other by the other’s first name.
“Hi, Joe.” “Hi, Moe” “Hi, Joe.” “Hi, Moe” “Hi….”
Alas, there was never much time for a proper goodbye.
But the monotony of their circuit soon became clear
It was no fun repeating it year after year.
Deciding to change streams and trading their niches.
They succeeded quite handily in making the switches.
Much happier, now, that their lives were reversed,
They went their opposite ways, the other now first.
“Hi, Moe.” “Hi, Joe.” “Hi, Moe.” “Hi, Joe.”
That’s precisely how their new schedule would go.
The new route worked goodly for quite a long while
You would see them passing and flashing a smile.
“Hi, Moe.” “Hi, Joe.” “Hi, Moe.” “Hi, Joe.”
They were immensely pleased by the opposite flow.
But then it happened quickly, without any sign.
Their health took a dive, and they were dead by nine.
You may wonder what happened to cause their demise.
I’ll tell you frankly, I don’t profess to be wise.
Well, I expect you’re waiting patiently for the end of this poem
Believe me, my dear friends, I too want to go home.
The moral of this fable is readily clear, of course
Never, NEVER, change streams in the middle of a horse.
No comments:
Post a Comment