The hog as some know well
Is meant to devour all sorts of things from hell
It stands quiet for so long and then
When something is offered digs riight in.
Doesn't take much to feed it
And if you neglect, it’ll just sit
Until something comes along that is the right size
Then the open maw grabs whatever passes by.
Known to devour bits of metal and stone
Whatever it passes, it gives a might moan
Then sometiimes coughs up the foreign matter
As though it wasn’t fit for its platter.
Sooner or later the hog must die,
For as time passes by
It grows a bit irritable and malcontent
Refusing that which is offered it.
One day when guest are expected and all is in readiness
The Hog coughs up yesterday’s contents
Of meals and such that were offered before
For it just can’t handle life any more.
So call the House Doctor that will say,
Your Garbage Disposer has had its day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem