Sandy was a baby shrew,
And he was at a loss
To know while all the other shrews
Should always be so cross.
He asked his Mother questions,
But she only cuffed his ears,
And snapped at him, while Sandy
Tried to hide away his tears.
He thought it would be lovely
If the shrews were kind and calm,
Instead of always bickering,
And doing other harm.
But baby shrews get older
And as Sandy grew and grew,
He found to his dismay
His pointed beak was growing too.
It stuck out far in front of him
Wherever Sandy ran.
He couldn’t get away from it
For no shrew ever can.
It made him feel so ugly
That into a rage he flew
And just like all the others,
He became an angry shrew.