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My Wolf Crier
April 9, 2013
Liar, liar, pants on fire,
I know that you’re a Wolf Crier,
You speak and chat,
And try to pat,
My back, crippled in pain,
Well, I can play that game.
Liar, liar, pants on fire,
I know that you’re a Wolf Crier,
You say this,
And you say that,
But you never mean,
Anything you spat.
In words of comfort,
You lack all,
In words of hate,
You’re King of the ball.
Liar, liar, pants on fire,
I know that you’re my Wolf Crier.
© Kyle G., Badger, MN
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