pump... pump... pump...




That thing so deep inside us
Which keeps us going strong
We have no need to get on that bus
Although we play along.

Its been there like-forever
From the days of Adam & Eve
Unpredictable like weather
It even spreads disease.

It powers all the other parts
The first until the last
You may think it is the heart
But it does not create gas.

Now although this poem is almost done
There is a clue inside
A number that will not be fun
Is below the one that hides.

This poem is not a riddle
But a mere work of art
In the end it may seem little
For example, an ardvark...