I have a thumb that’s just a bit weird,
It’s not the fact that it has a small beard,
It also curves more than 90 degrees,
To the outside when it’s at ease.
My friend asked me why it’s so angle-y,
Maybe cracked up by someone from Langley?
I said no, they’re not on my trail,
They got stopped by the ice water pail.
The thumb’s like so because I’m from the north,
Where the cold winds blows all back and forth.
Sometimes it blows a gnome into my ear,
For a straight thumb that’s mishap to fear.
They get scared and cry all day,
Magical tinnitus, a bit like a neigh.
Stuck very deep so that you can’t reach,
It can be a real bad good-mood leech.
My thumb here is the perfect tool,
With the right curve, not even a fool,
Can miss the gnome and not help it out,
The grooves on the skin make a nice, ridged route.
The beard on the thumb makes them think of mom,
Which, in turn, will make them calm.
My thumb is an evolution prompted trait,
You just died if yours was straight.
Plus, I can never, ever lose a thumb war,
That’s pretty nice, and I bet there’s more.