Ad [Verse] Sarcasm
The weatherman predicts some snow;
He calls for about three inches.
Must be great playing god, to know
How much will fall, but that’s show biz.
I know one thing: if I were wrong
As often as the weathermen
I wouldn’t have my job that long.
They screw-up time and time again
And still manage to keep working.
Imagine a neurosurgeon
Working on your head one morning
As inept as the weathermen.
Perish the thought! Some comfort though
If they call for it, it won’t snow.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
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