Let’s tell the tale of the lungling. Let’s begin at the beginning that begins here. Stay tuned.


Industrial Revolution not yet here,
But ever hardly were they heard though all so near.
As they evolved had they no lungs of their own
And lo an alveolus was each one’s home.

If ever there was love, your lunglings love you.
And to prove it your happiness health they pursue.
They athwart the portal of your vital gate.
Without these good beings no telling our fate.

The sustaining good life they thus with you share.
Your love-love must they have, about this must you care.
They have not nerve endings as all lungs do not,
So they can’t know when you breathe in the “hot.”

These beautiful creatures though tougher than nails
Set you out gently in good times or travails.
Now that we all know they are always in there
At least say to pollutants, “Now don’t you dare!”

When people strive to take good care of their lungs
They can rise joyously up life’s ladder’s rungs.
Just what do they do? This tale us let’s pursue:
They move life along, tell our offspring be true.

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