This is the story of Snippa and Rock
And Pippa: all stuck in a family lock,
Where all take their turns, which are always the same;
For family life is a hell of a game.
Snippa’s the step-ma and Pippa’s the daughter;
Rock is the dad, and he’s tougher than mortar
When set on by Snippa – he knows she will slip;
But Pippa gets round him, though never round Snip.
Rock feels that Snippa is losing her edge.
Pip feels as sore as a topiarized hedge.
“Stop screwing up!” Snippy snaps. “Why the whines?”
But Rock is for Pippa. “You’re giving her lines!”
“I once used to sparkle” thinks Snip, with a gulp;
“Now here I am, jammed between Pebble and Pulp.”
“I’m cracking,” thinks Rock, as Pip tightens her grip.
“I wish I were stiffer, like Snippa,” thinks Pip.
O Snippa pricks Pippa and Pippa rules Rock;
For Pippa’s a wrapper but Rock likes to block;
And Snippa is sharper but Rock is too tough
For any but Pippa, who’s rippable stuff.