Silly childhood game - Uncle Wiggly

I cower in abject horror

Approaching space number 109

Home of the gaunt and haggard shell of the Skeezix



The emaciated figure

Harboring the greed of a thousand

Invading, thriving, ascaris whittles away

The self confidence of young minds

Casting doubt that they will

Ever reach the finish to see for themselves

The sagacious Uncle Wiggly



His mission now is complete

The arboreal king of misery and woe

Skeezix reposes high on a knotty forest crag

And the child still tries his best to

Stay into the game

But with insufficent, no volition

Plotted course of demolition

Goes through all the motions

Musing caveat emptor and

A predetermined failure



He draws a card and all his fears come true

Advance to 109

That's what you have to do



When Mr. Skeezix becomes Mr. Jones

Or you, or me

Just think of what that does to wreck

A child of two or three

They know and feel much more than

We will give them credit for

And all they want in life from you

Is love and nothing more

When painful eyes begin to cringe

When you walk through the door

Remember children are a gift of love

Sent from the Lord