I hang around, biding my time,

I’m knackered from the daily life.

I sometimes peek at their newspaper,

At times they hum a movie song.

Do they mostly smell all nice?

When near me, they sure does not!

Some crib and cry about their lives,

Still nothing ever compares to mine. 

They hate their jobs and bosses too,

I’d gladly swap, mine with theirs.

When the trumpets sound very loud,

I prepare myself for the stinky end.

I wail out loud as I am torn away,

‘Goodbye!’, I cry to my family roll.

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