It's and Its. An interpretive poem.

*Leaping in from the wings and laning centerstage. Dressed in a yellow/green leotard stretched to horrible, near bursting tension and holding in one paw a fir tree branch and in the other an oak sapling. Smiling to all, I bow low at the waist and begin dancing about while reciting.*

It's and Its
It's and its.
Three little bits
Of letters that make two words.
The funny thing about these two
Is that hook you see up there, don't you?
That performs not how it should, as you've been told!

Its name you see,
Is apostrophe.
And when it's employed, as most were taught.
It hooks the "s" onto the word
And signals you the hooked up term
Possesses something, as if t'was bought.

But here, you see,
That's not the way.
That little hook, where in it's does hang and sway
Makes a shorter form the thought "It is".
'Tis how we say a thing does be.
Said like that because we are lazy.

And if you don't
See that 'strophee there
Don't fret nor go completely spare,
Now "It" possesses somethng there.
A quality or item that It won't share.
Sounds like a greedy grizzly bear.

Thank you, thank you.

*Bowing low. A muffled rip sounds behind me and I straighten up.
Holding the branches behind my rear, I slide walk sideways off, stage right.*