A Croc

A Crocodile sat on my back.
I believe his friends, called him Jack.
Jack had been gone a great while,
his place of birth was the river Nile.
He was on my shoulder, wearing a coat.
Happy was I, he had not grabbed my throat.
"Why are you here?' I asked of he.
He said, "don't ask, let it be,
for I am not a Croc, silly boy,
I'm your worries of what's to be,
for your life will soon by history".