Memoirs

A dinosaur, probably a Tyrannosaurus Rex, has a story to tell, if only he could remember it . . .


I’m growing very, very old
And want to get my story told
Before my marbles go.
The centuries grind on apace –
(I’m losing track of time and place,
But feel it must be so).

I lived my life as I’d been taught:
I bashed and bullied, hunted and fought,
Survived from day to day.
I was a giant – I had some clout
And used to throw my weight about
In a most aggressive way.

My four-foot head had massive jaws;
Triceratops and hadrosaurs
Were what I had for tea.
My life was great – until one morning
When suddenly, and without warning,
A great catastrophe!

The details I have quite forgot;
I just recall that it was hot
And, ere my eye had blinked,
The sky went dark (or was it light?),
The sun turned black (or was it bright?)
And I became extinct.

Of course, they’ll say it wasn’t so:
“What hastened your demise was slow
Environmental change”.
Maybe it was. My brain is tired.
(By rights, it should have quite expired –
No wonder I feel strange.)

Soon, weathering may well expose
My footprints, vertebrae or nose
In ancient desert sand.
So, now I’ve told you of my life
(Though, as you see, confusion’s rife),
I hope you’ll understand.

[Image: dino-wikia.com]
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