2011 - Day 339

A pocket full of sunshine
A pocket full of change,
A pocket holds my wallet and
The last one's quite deranged.
Every time I put my hand
Deep into that pocket,
It bites and snaps and grabs at me
Then asks me if I'll walk it.
No way! I say then stomp away
I rip those pants right off,
But then the ants
Crawl in my pants
Somehow I got the pox.