Why do you huff and puff all around
just to blow a poor pig's house down?
Big and bad, they call as a name,
it brought you nothing but coldhearted shame.
So you turned to the first you could see,
the pigs building houses, those little three.
They turned you this way,
"Don't do it!" they say.
Your breath like whirlwinds doesn't stop.
The last house you see, was planned by the three,
to be the strongest dwelling around.
You huffed, and puffed, but you couldn't knock it down.
You didn't want to become what they named you.
Stop the huffing,
stop the puffing.
With sticks and stones,
they break your bones.
The words will no longer harm you.
No comments:
Post a Comment