Peanut-Butter Sandwich

Where The Sidewalk Ends


I’ll song you a poem of a silly young kingWho played with the world at the finish of a string,But he just loved one solitary thing—And the was simply a peanut-butter sandwich.

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His scepter and also his royal gowns,His regal throne and gold crownsWere brown and sticky indigenous the moundsAnd drippings from every peanut-butter sandwich.

His topics all were silly foolsFor he had passed a royal ruleThat all the they might learn in schoolWas how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.

He would not eat his can be fried steak,He scorned his soup and kingly cake,And said his courtly chef to bakeAn extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.

And then someday he took a biteAnd began chewing with delight,But found his mouth to be stuck quite tightFrom that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.

His brother pulled, his sister pried,The magician pushed, his mother cried,“My boy’s cursed suicideFrom eat his last peanut-butter sandwich!”

The dentist came, and also the imperial doc.The imperial plumber banged and knocked,But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!

The carpenter, that tried through pliers,The telephone guy tried through wires,The firemen, castle tried through fire,But couldn’t melt that peanut-butter sandwich.

With ropes and pulleys, drills and also coil,With vapor and lubricating oil—For two decades of tears and toil—They fought that horrible peanut-butter sandwich.

Then every his imperial subjects came.They hooked his jaws with grapplin’ chainsAnd pulled both ways with might and mainAgainst that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.

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Each man and also woman, girl and also boyPut down their ploughs and also pots and toysAnd pulled until kerack! Oh, joy—They broke right v that peanut-butter sandwich

A puff that dust, a screech, a squeak—The king’s jaw opened with a creak.And climate in voice therefore faint and also weak—The an initial words that they heard that speakWere, “How around a peanut-butter sandwich?”

 This is one old poem from Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends. Silverstein and his poems will constantly have a special location in my heart, due to the fact that I provided to be review his poems together bedtime stories when I to be little, and also I always asked for them because they were my favorite. I think this certain poem ties in to one of my capstone questions about humans and also panoramic ideas. The city tells around a king who has a specific habit that provides him loss in a disposition, and also even when he is freed from his difficulty he still desires to go back to that exact same old habit. This could be compared to, say, the environment. Humanity as a species has a bad habit of polluting the air, water and soil through smog, gasses, trash, chemicals and also oil. And also there will be a suggest somewhere later on where we will certainly run into a large problem due to the fact that of our bad habit, and it will certainly take a most work and will it is in very complicated to obtain out that the instance and/or to fix. Also after that, there space still civilization out there that will still have those exact same old actions that got us in problem in the first place. The brings increase a question; what would it take it for united state to begin making panoramic actions to slow or avoid the contamination of our planet? There space doomsayers the end there, typically well learned scientists, that say we have to start making drastic transforms right currently to keep our planet healthy for future generations down the line. We recognize our shortcomings together a species, but our overwhelming strengths of ingenuity and also problem resolving will store us here, and I believe, will acquire us the end of the hole that we space all to happy to save digging listed below our feet.