Dirty Work Poem by Ima Ryma

My farmer wanted rid of me,
And so led me to a dry well.
Snuck up behind and pushed, did he.
And to the dry bottom I fell.
Then the farmer began to throw
A whole lot of shovels of dirt
To bury me way down below.
Of course my feelings were quite hurt.
But as each pile of dirt did fall,
I stepped on it, higher no doubt.
Stepping on the piles of dirt all,
This donkey did step up and out.

I let my farmer's meanness pass,
Chose not to kick his other ass.