Out in the woods, hunting a buck;
Thought I’d have better luck, than that duck.
Got the camo on, deer can’t see me;
Lean next to one, I look like a tree.
Got a rifle, and a scope;
Paid a lot of money, it looks dope.
I can stalk or sit, in my deer blind;
Either way, a deer I hope to find.
Sitting in my blind, whiling away the hours;
Why has no deer come, to my feeding towers?
Oh hell, here comes one, with a really big head;
He’s large, must be a 10 point spread.
I get ready, to squeeze the trigger;
Then something happened, that I did not figure.
Gun fires but, bullet did not go, where I wanted to put;
Screaming in agony, I shot myself in the foot.
Fell from my blind, hanging in midair;
Should have bought, a better chair.
I’ll be here a while, long time before I’m found;
Cell phone fell from pocket, and is lying on the ground.
Had some time;
To compose this rhyme.
If ever invited to hunt, a duck or a buck;
I’ll say with conviction, go take a flyin’ ****!
Spider Michaels