 |
||
|
A Ball of Yarn
|
||
|
One little kitten with a ball of yarn Romps and plays from night to dawn One ball of yarn spun and furled with care Is now the housekeeper’s nightmare What might have made a mitten bright Will now feed the fire at night. Thus is it with human life We make and play our games of strife Worries are the tangles, hardships the knots The fruit that greed and avarice begot Ere the day breaks; realization takes sway Your life is beyond redemption Far, far away . . . |
||