On The Cutting Edge
People either push me around.
or they spend the day trying to ride me.
It's not that I'm wimpy, or spineless,
I just tend to keep lots of stuff inside me.
Just pull my string and I'll grumble real loud
while I gobble that green stuff outside.
The entire street hears me, and little kids fears me,
but the very worst blow to my pride
is that after you've used me, you lock me away
in a dark, smelly, boring tool shed.
And the rake next to me, he keeps looking at me
like he wants me to choke and play dead.
I want out of here - I'm so happy when I
get to stuff my big stomach with grass.
'Course after I've eaten 'bout half of your lawn
I tend to get filled up with gas!
WHAT AM I?
(C) 1998, Arden Davidson
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