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Once upon a time there were 200 pigs,
And they had some fancy "digs".
Out in the woods was where they were,
In nests we made for the mama pigs.
They stayed there till they reached feed-out stage,
And we ran them up to the barn, us all in a rage.
They would all start out in a nice little row,
Up the lane, what a show!!
Then 5 or 6 would head off in a sprint,
Out into the field.
The farmer man would get so mad,
Why didnt you stop them,
He'd yell at us!
The boys and I got sick of the fuss.
The boys they left for nests of their own,
I refused to help and guess what next?
We quit the pork raisin',
Got off of the farm.
What do you know, no more harm.
I sometimes miss the farm,
Darn tootin',
But the pigs elsewhere can keep on rootin'.
Marilyn J (Ibem28@aol.com)
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