Horst On The Porch

Poor old Horst
There was no borscht.
He cried and cried
I made him a pie.
He asked my why.
Don't try my patience,
Or you'll be sorry.
Don't make me mad
Or I'll eat you alive.
Poor old Horst
Was beside himself.
Such was life
Inside his hell.
No hope, no vision,
no help, or such.
Poof old Horst
has no borscht.