Two Goats

Once upon a time, in a super-cool valley, there was a teeny-weeny bridge over a fast river that just wouldn't slow down. This bridge was old, like, fairy-tale grandma old.

One morning, when the sun was shining like a big yellow beach ball, two goats arrived at opposite ends of the bridge. One goat was groovin' in from the north and was all like, "Yay, grass party!" The other sashayed in from the south, thinking, "Yum, yum, can't wait to munch!"

They trotted onto the bridge and—Oops!—bumped into each other in the middle like characters in a cartoon.

"Hey, buddy," said the first goat. "Why don't you let me go first? I've got important munching to do."

"Oh, important munching?" replied the second goat. "Well, I've got VIP tickets to the all-you-can-eat grass buffet!"

Their eyes met. Imagine two superheroes staring each other down, but with fur and hooves.

That's when they started bonking their heads together, not like they were dancing or anything. The bridge began to shake like it was scared.

"Uh-oh," said Goat One. "Do you feel that? It's like the bridge is joining our dance-off."

"Yeah," said Goat Two. "Or maybe it's telling us to cut it out!"

But nope, they kept at it—Bonk! Bang! Thud! Until—Snap! The bridge gave up. It just couldn't handle their goat drama and broke like a popped balloon, sending the goats into the water below.

Getting carried away by the river, they were still fussing and fighting. Goat One yelled over the water, "Ever think maybe we should've just shared the bridge?"

Goat Two, splashing all over the place, shouted back, "Share? Why didn't I think of that? Let's remember that for next time!"

But, oh dear, there was no next time. The river said, "Party's over, dudes," and swept them away, never to see that tasty, amazing grass they both wanted. And so, the grass on the other side stayed perfectly green and delicious, like it was waiting for someone who knew how to share.

Two goats, one white, one black,
Came upon a bridge's narrow track.
One from the north, and one from the south,
Both dreamt of green grass in their mouth.

As they met in the bridge's center,
Neither one would step back nor enter.
They glared, they stared, noses in the air,
Both thinking, "I won't move, I swear!"

With horns they pushed, they tussled, they clashed,
And the frail bridge under them thrashed.
A creak, a snap, down the bridge did sway,
Both goats tumbled into the waterway.

The river roared, swift and so wide,
And the two stubborn goats were swept by the tide.
If only they'd learned to share the path that day,
Both could have grazed and happily played.