The Boy Who Wouldn’t Stop Sucking His Thumb

From morning to night he sucked his thumb,

It was soft and wrinkled like an old plum.

It began to grow at an alarming rate

He had no idea what would be its fate.

The Boy looked at it, with enormous pride;

Wondering if when bitten, what was inside.

Hoping to find juice to taste, he bit,

His mother screamed and nearly had a fit.

The Boy shaken to the core,

Sucks his thumb no more,

Instead his thumb, now quite white

Is encased in a bandage tight.