Following on from the last post, here is the wannabe Seuss poem I wrote last year:
Those born as dibs in a world built for dobs,
will find that they struggle to carry out jobs.
They cater for dabs, and even for dubs,
but dibs just don’t fit through the doors of those clubs.
The best you can do is act like a dob,
work hard on your dobbing and run with that mob.
If that’s too hard, be a dub or a dab,
they’ll help you with anti-dib pills from a lab.
Don’t buy their fibs about helping the dibs,
they’re dirty damp squibs from political nibs.
They only care about voters on hooks,
who like how their insincere dib-concern looks.
And watch out for dobs who act like they care,
they’ll put you on hobs and they’ll simmer you there.
Take heed from a dib who’s been round the block,
Be more like the dobs or you’re in for a shock.