My dad had no use for grammar, Never helped me with my school; His skill was with his hammer, And words became my tool. My mom would use a wooden spoon, When baking cakes or cookies, And sometimes when we misbehaved, She'd use it on our tushies. My cat can use her claws, To open cabinets like a crowbar, But now they have locks on them, And she can't get in…so far. Exercise can be a tool, For helping with depression, For losing weight, feeling good, And lessening aggression. To help you memorize, Use a mnemonic word device, Like strings on a viola: Cats Give Dogs Advice. Artists use their paintbrushes, Charcoal, pens or pencils; Some animals can take a stick, And use as a utensil. Tools come any shape or size, To cook or build or sew– Even to manipulate the mind, Did I use one? You'll never know! Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich
This poem was written in response to Sadje’s What do you see # 154. Please visit her page to participate and/or read other people’s responses.
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