The Dream With the Pigs


My House
419 Cyrus thompson drive
United States
34° 44' 54.7116" N, 77° 18' 26.082" W

As I lay in bed, and try to fall asleep

I stare at the ceiling, and count sheep

Those sheep turn to pigs

And those pigs have figs


Now why would a pig carry a fig

And dance a little jig

Especially two, not two but three

And they are smiling full of glee


They are running from a wolf

who's definaetly out of breath

I feel bad for that wolf

He looks scared to death


Pig One builds a house of straw

The wolf catches up, and falls to his paws

He looks as tired as could be

He stands back up and is as tall as a tree


He asks for the fig, cause it isn't his

The pig says "no, you foolish whiz"

The wolf begins to cry, and the house falls

The pig runs to the house with stick walls


There is another pig there

his brother to be exact

The wolf asks again

And cries, quite the act


The house falls, the pigs run you get the jist

The wolf yells I just want the fig and balls his fist

The pigs run to house number three

And are still laughing a giggling with glee


The wolf asked "why you are doing this to me"

The pigs didn't answer, so the wolf climbs a tree

He looks inside the window of that brick house

And watches the pigs watch the figs as if it were a mouse


With one big jump

he jumps inside

and tries to get the fig

but the pigs dont abide


The pigs say "get out," and the wolf hangs his head

The wolf has an idea, leaves the house, and yells "bread!"

The pigs run to get their fill

But they leave behind that fig to chill


Now the wolf finally has his fig back

So he can bring it back to his dad named Zach

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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