There once was a guy named Mike,
And boy did he like to hike.
Into the woods and onto the trail,
Walking and walking so he could tell a good tale.
Then came that morning, on a hot day in June,
When he strapped on the pack and it ended too soon.
The rain had come heavily, the whole night before,
It seemed that the rocks had to settle a score.
As he walked on those rocks, and he breathed in the air,
The hiking was good, and he had not a care.
Then all at once, he started to slide,
With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
His foot then then got caught and he heard a strange snap,
Oh what had happened? Was it some kind of trap?
As he lay on the ground, the situation was grim,
He knew it was bad, his head started to swim.
One short week later, after the surgery was done,
It was obvious and true that the rocks, they had won.