The Triceratops



by: Milthy Swinebuckle





The day before tomorrow

The night before the last

I spotted a Triceratops

A walking in the grass





As he wandered by, I asked him

"Why do you walk so slow?"

"I've hurt myself", he said to me

Then looked down to a plaster on his toe





He closed his eyes remembering

The accident that hurt his foot

Making me feel a little sad

A little empty

And causing a rumbling in my gut





To stop being so empathetic

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