With a nameplate on his door
and a stanza in his wallet,
Mr Honk stumbled upon
the first smidgeon of perpetuity,
but as a newborn he looked back
at the five decades of his life
with a hint of reservation—
fate might have spared him
the habitual thumb-munching
but not the descriptive grammar:
You ain’t lived nothing yet!
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
hidden pilcrow 