For fun and song we went to dinner, my friends for fun, and I the latter
With great dismay, upon my tray, a finger in my pupu platter!
At first disgust! Repulsion! Dread! These thoughs inside my head they gonged
Until I sat in contemplation, of the man this digit once belonged...
I saw the knuckle, rough and worn, a handyman, perhaps the trade?..
perhaps a saw-stroke gone awry, had caused this one fingered parade...
The ring of gold had many chips, a marriage holding strong?
When was the day t'was first displayed, was the time ago so long?
A scar which crags across the pad I wondered of its cause
A knife misused, a slip and fall, a callous clank of canine jaws?
And the fingernail so smooth and round, you must have trimmed it so
ne'er again shall he be cut, for ne'ermore shall he grow...
You wonder why I write you now, my good four-fingered chum,
I'll provide your ringed phlange...when you provide me with your thumb!