Mama Vise Grip Feeds Her Wrenches
Mama vise-grip had but two meals left for her little baby brights.
Her wrenches were beak up, waiting for her to do the right thing.
Being a mama, she knew she had to give them the last two bites.
They gulped down their meal eagerly and began to happily sing.
Our mama vise-grip is the best, long live our mom, we love her so!
They settled down for the night, all snug and happy for the time.
She felt better already, though she knew they had a long way to go.
In the morn she would scour the sidewalk for a nickle or a dime.
It’s what a mother does she told herself, as her tummy grumbled.
Even a vise-grip mama? An internal voice asked in way of a sad song.
Especially a vise-grip mama, she replied, feeling more than a little humbled.
She knew people said vise-grips were cold, and she knew it was wrong.
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