Chris’s Mommie is a Zombie
I have a story I must tell
although it's sure to make you yell.
This tale, it's about TV,
what it could do to you or me.
There was a little girl named Chris,
cute as honey, sweet as bliss.
She lived, I think, not far from you,
four blocks, or three, or maybe two.
In Chris's house, you understand,
the television ruled the land.
For each and every day at dawn,
one of her parents turned it on.
From sunrise on, can you believe
that thing stayed on with no reprieve?
And every creature in the house
stared at the screen like bludgeoned grouse.
Their eyes were dim and slightly glazed
because their shrinking brains were dazed.
Their mouths hung open as they gawped
at silliness that should be stopped.
And at the feet of all these fools
were sticky puddles made of drool.
Chris was the only one, you see,
who didn't watch and so was free.
Try as she might she could not get
her family to snap out of it.
Her father watched the screen and ate.
Her brother would just vegetate.
The dog and cat who always fought
were not immune and so were caught.
Just like the family, they would stare
forget to fight (it's true, I swear!)
Her mother was the worst, I'd say,
for she was home throughout the day.
The screen it shined,
the screen it glowed,
and Chris's mother's brain…
it slowed.
Before too long, Mom was in trouble;
she'd lost the smarts God gave a bubble.
She'd walk and always hit a wall,
and when it came to stairs—she'd fall.
She'd talk, it sounded like an add,
so Chris gave up on mom and dad.
Please listen up and don't be dumb
though television can be fun,
don't you become like Chris's mommie,
a shambling, brainless, drooling zombie.
TV, you see, could eat your brain,
rot it right out, auf Wiedersehen.
copyright 2012
although it's sure to make you yell.
This tale, it's about TV,
what it could do to you or me.
There was a little girl named Chris,
cute as honey, sweet as bliss.
She lived, I think, not far from you,
four blocks, or three, or maybe two.
In Chris's house, you understand,
the television ruled the land.
For each and every day at dawn,
one of her parents turned it on.
From sunrise on, can you believe
that thing stayed on with no reprieve?
And every creature in the house
stared at the screen like bludgeoned grouse.
Their eyes were dim and slightly glazed
because their shrinking brains were dazed.
Their mouths hung open as they gawped
at silliness that should be stopped.
And at the feet of all these fools
were sticky puddles made of drool.
Chris was the only one, you see,
who didn't watch and so was free.
Try as she might she could not get
her family to snap out of it.
Her father watched the screen and ate.
Her brother would just vegetate.
The dog and cat who always fought
were not immune and so were caught.
Just like the family, they would stare
forget to fight (it's true, I swear!)
Her mother was the worst, I'd say,
for she was home throughout the day.
The screen it shined,
the screen it glowed,
and Chris's mother's brain…
it slowed.
Before too long, Mom was in trouble;
she'd lost the smarts God gave a bubble.
She'd walk and always hit a wall,
and when it came to stairs—she'd fall.
She'd talk, it sounded like an add,
so Chris gave up on mom and dad.
Please listen up and don't be dumb
though television can be fun,
don't you become like Chris's mommie,
a shambling, brainless, drooling zombie.
TV, you see, could eat your brain,
rot it right out, auf Wiedersehen.
copyright 2012