The Grup-a-lup

The Grup-a-lup

The grup-a-lup just plods along,
Without a word, without a song.
Without rest, it plods ahead
From when it's born, until it's dead.
It never stops; it rarely slows.
Why it keeps going, no one knows.
It never eats or takes a drink,
Or changes course or stops to think.
Having no fun, it's journey never ends.
I'm glad I'm not a grup-a-lup, aren't you, my friends?


©2009-Art Belliveau