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Dashing Darrell Dalyrimple, His life was ruined by a pimple. He was blessed with looks and grace Till it appeared upon his face. At school it was a solid hit. We all cried, "Darrell, what a zit!" But there beneath that pimple throbbing Sat poor Darrell sadly sobbing, "With this gross growth here on my head I sometimes wish that I were dead." He tried to pull his ball cap down, His wrinkled forehead matched his frown. Soon that darn spot began to fade Which brought much joy to our sixth grade. We laughed and gave old Darrell "five," Once more twas good to be alive. Since it was gone we led a cheer, "Hooray, that thing is out of here." Next morning it was back again, It decorated Darrell's chin. Each week it changes where it grows, Went to his cheek, then to his nose. Alas, one day it did appear As a small rose on Darrell's ear. It slowly moved from place to place, A traveler on Darrell's face. When tired of doing facial harm It simply jumped to Darrell's arm. We had to watch it fester there As it devoured his only hair. Then it was gone, we laughed with glee, But Darrell said, "It's on my knee." This week we haven't seen the zit And we don't miss the thing a bit. Where'd it go? It's sadly simple-- Darrell's sitting on his pimple. —Grandpa Tucker |
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