Underneath My Outside Face There's A Face

Pirate Captain Jim "walk The Plank," Says Pirate Jim "but Captain Jim, I Cannot Swim." "then You Must Steer Us Through The Gale." "but Captain Jim, I Cannot Sail." "then Down With The Galley Slaves You Go." "but Captain Jim, I Cannot Row." "then You Must Be The Pirate's Clerk." "but Captain Jim, I Cannot Work.

I Tried On The Farmer's Hat, Didn't Fit. . . A Little Too Small - Just A Bit Too Floppy. . . . . I Tried On The Summer Sun, Felt Good. Nice And Warm - Knew It Would. Tried The Grass Beneath Bare Feet, Felt Neat. Finally, Finally Felt Well Dressed, Nature's Clothes Fit Me Best.

If We Meet And I Say, "hi," That's A Salutation. If You Ask Me How I Feel, That's A Consideration. If We Stop And Talk Awhile, That's A Conversation. If We Understand Each Other, That's Communication. If We Argue, Scream And Fight, That's An Altercation. If Later We Apologize, That's A Reconciliation. If We Help Each Other Home, That's Cooperation. And All These Ations Added Up Make Civilization. (and If I Say This Is A Wonderful Poem, Is That Exaggeration?)

There Is A Place Where The Sidewalk Ends, And Before The Street Begins, And There The Grass Grows Soft And White, And There The Sun Burns Crimson Bright, And There The Moon-bird Rests From His Flight To Cool In The Peppermint Wind.

My Skin Is Kind Of Sort Of Brownish Pinkish Yellowish White. My Eyes Are Greyish Blueish Green, But I'm Told They Look Orange In The Night. My Hair Is Reddish Blondish Brown, But Its Silver When Its Wet, And All The Colors I Am Inside Have Not Been Invented Yet.