by Adam Schmidt
The English language is quite odd.
It must've been a different sort of sod,
Who thought this mess all out.
He really didn't know what talking was all about!
After all more than one mouse is mice,
But on my block we have houses not hice!
A goose can fly with a bunch of geese,
But in Canada I have not seen a herd of meese.
One man and a male friend make men,
Then you know as well as I that pan ain't ever pen.
I put a foot down and stand on both feet,
But I wear some boots and definitely not beet!
I pull a tooth and have a gap in my teeth,
But at the fair they have booths not beeth.
This is one and two or more are these,
And I get one kiss but I don't get several kese!
How about a brother or a group of brethren?
Where as a lovely mother won't meet methren.
Then there's pronouns he, his, and him,
But you shan't say she, shis, and shim!
As you know it's tough with words like bough,
Whooping cough, and cookie dough,
And another thing you can start to hate,
Is how people take boats straight down the strait!
And why doesn't nose sound like lose?
Why, tell me, is it goose and moose, then choose?
I still haven't got a single, solitary clue,
And they tell me I've been talking since two!