A giant boulder sits precipitously,
Doomed to fall,
Just above the trail that heads
From our village into the market town.
And we all worried that when it went,
It's force would be catastrophic.

A committee was formed,
And everyday, at least a few of us were scheduled
To appear above the boulder and push it down,
At times when no one was coming.

And this we did for seven years
Without the boulder budging.
A corp of engineers decided
That someone was going to have to get under the boulder and pull,
And that's when we thought of the old lady.

There was an old lady,
Doomed to age, and we convinced her to come
To see the problem we young folks had
With the aforementioned boulder.

We got her in front of it
And asked her to pull,
But just as she saw our trickery,
With all her strength,
She pushed the boulder up by herself,
Up onto us, killing us all profusely.

The boulder still sits on the mountainside,
Unbothered by the tremendous slope.
And there may be a moral to this story,
And if there is, I hope that you will tell it.

-jenn