This is older than motherfuckin' old, possibly written around the time that we now call the K-T boundary. Yeah. This cheerfulness was probably in reaction to the downright unpleasantness of the climate back then. Damned rock-dust. Blocked out the sun.

Okay. I lie. This was written somewhere abouts ninth grade. At the K-T boundary, my ancestor, whoever she was, was a type of rodent from which all present-day mammals descended (actually if she was my ancestor she probably was the rodent from which all present-day mammals descended, which is a cool thought), and she was wondering why the sky had gotten so dark and why all the big, hungry birds-without-wings had all of a sudden gone away.

Those were the days, man.

My teacher at the time told me that this reminded him of Bob Dylan. I was flattered beyond all comprehension (Mr. Lewis FTW). Now I notice that it lacks the darkness and, uh, poetic genius, perhaps, but it remains my most successful use of rhyme, ever. I'm a prose person. I don't do rhyme.