Glen

By S.C. Larson

 

Glen, Glen who lives in a pen

With his beady little eyes that are like black holes

He looks so innocent from afar

But is truly the spawn of Satan when you are introduced to him

He has all the tools to be the Prince of Destruction

His horns so useful and deadly

His hooves made for jumping

Even his beard causes distress, for he cannot even pull off the cliché look

At least he is no longer my problem

For now he is someone else's Glen in some other pen.