I Hate Leaves
A million leaves have fallen all over my front yard ;
my duty is to get them up, though it's not really in the cards.
I'll stumble through them every day, the wind will blow them high :
I'll never, ever look at them, but soon I'll start to lie.
"They just suddenly appeared today" is what I'll tell them all.
"My neighbors like to dump them here, happens every fall."
Spring will come and grass will grow right through the icky leaves ;
It will be the greenest, prettiest sight you'll ever see.
Feel free to use my story to get you off the hook;
when it comes to raking leaves, I'd rather read a book.
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