Kaspar was a fat and healthy tot,
his muscles taut and his blood hot,
a picture of health, strong and stout
with rosy cheeks, running all about.
His soup sat on the table, a delicous treat,
getting colder and colder 'cause he wouldn't eat
He threw a big fit and started to ball,
he stamped his feet and yelled out to all:
"It's not what I want and it will not do,
I will not eat my dinner of stew."
He went to bed hungry and still a bit mad,
and by the next day, he looked pretty bad.
He was getting thinner and a little unstable,
but a fresh bowl of soup was there on the table.
He continued his fits and only yelled louder:
"I hereby refuse to eat any chowder
and never again shall I drink my broth;
I'd rather eat from the pig's trough!"
Kaspar's growing hunger took it's toll,
he would not eat the food in his bowl!
His temper tired and his limbs grew weak,
by the third day his voice was meek,
just a whisper, "I will not this goop!
I would rather die than have my soup!"
On the fourth day, he couldn't stay awake:
his eyes went blurry and started to shake,
but still he refused a warm healthy meal,
stubborn and stupid over no big deal.
He could barely move and hold up his head,
and on the very next day, he was dead.
Last Modified by Lars on 7/25/95 text and copy © copyright 1995 by Lars Norpchen
send email to lars@phobe.com