Who always is complaining.
He doesn't care for winter days;
He hates it when it's raining.
He has an itch that he can't scratch,
Right behind his ear.
He wants a pair of glasses,
'Cause his vision isn't clear.
He cannot fall asleep at night,
Which makes him cranky every day.
I buy him the most expensive food,
He claims it's just, "Okay."
I think I'll teade this big pain in,
It's gotten too preposerous.
It seems that what I really have,
Is a giant pet Whine-oceros.
© 2011 Art Belliveau
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