I was looking through a folder of poetry and stories from high school and I found this, written 51 years ago today.
My Friend, the Proton
the proton in my friend, a very nice friend he is
staying in his orbit, always minding his biz.
sometimes the little proton gets lonely
like we all do, so he finds a willing
hydroxide, and they form a drop of water
falling split-splat upon my window-pane
like my chemistry book says they oughta;
yes, the happy proton is a good friend.
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