Blame

I wrote such a beautiful book for you

‘Bout rainbows and sunshine

And dreams that come true.

But the goat went and ate it.

(You knew that he would),

So I wrote you another one

Fast as I could,

Of course it could never be

Nearly as great

As that beautiful book

That the silly goat ate.

So if you don’t like

This new book I just wrote —

Blame the goat.

A poem from ‘A light in the Attic’ by Shel Silverstein