Don’t Know Where He’s Going But Sees

Let Us Leave This Place Where The Smoke Blows Black And The Dark Street Winds And Bends. Past The Pits Where The Asphalt Flowers Grow We Shall Walk With A Walk That Is Measured And Slow, And Watch Where The Chalk-white Arrows Go To The Place Where The Sidewalk Ends.

When I Am Gone What Will You Do? Who Will Write And Draw For You? Someone Smarter--someone New? Someone Better--maybe You!

There Is A Place Where The Sidewalk Ends.

I Asked The Zebra, Are You Black With White Stripes? Or White With Black Stripes? And The Zebra Asked Me, Are You Good With Bad Habits? Or Are You Bad With Good Habits? Are You Noisy With Quiet Times? Or Are You Quiet With Noisy Times? Are You Happy With Some Sad Days? Or Are You Sad With Some Happy Days? Are You Neat With Some Sloppy Ways? Or Are You Sloppy With Some Neat Ways? And On And On And On And On And On And On He Went. I’ll Never Ask A Zebra About Stripes...again.

He Wasted His Wishes On Wishing.