Poem: The Tale of Mr. Bowl

Mr. Bowl,

Had in his head a hole,

And his friends would play with his brain.

And yes, it could hurt when in his skull it did roll,

But it did not stop or make him full,

Of a want for them to stop.

On nights,

He would stare up at the sky,

And wonder why,

He was as he was.

The doctors would scan him,

On occasion,

For when else would they get the chance?

But they could find nothing wrong with Mr. Bowl,

Except that his head had a big open hole,

And in it his brain would bounce and roll.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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