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Mr. Grump
Old man Grump sat in a sophisticated vintage room./ 
 Something so clean that he thought it had no need for a broom./
 He looked on one side and there stood a great glossy shocase;/
 the tophies and awards inside, left awe on his old face./
 
 On his right stood a library that was filled to the shelf./
 From Twain to Poe, he had to look he couldn't help himself,/
 but what really caught his eye was a glittering black box./ 
 The valuables inside protected with four big locks./
 
 But old man Grump knew where the secret hidden keys were kept,/
 under the soft cozy basket of where Gabe the cat slept./
 The box, now opened, showed an assortment of jewelry./
 He saw rubies, diamonds, gems and said, "What a luxury."/
 
 The old man, slightly deaf, heard a sound coming from the door./
 Now he was sure, for there were feet beating on the wood floor./
 He quickly locked the black box, and then he put it away./
 "Oh, Mr. Grump you shouldn't be out of bed at day."/
 
 "A schizophrenic patient should be getting lots fo rest,"/
 said a wise young woman wearing a pricey velvet vest./
 It was not an intruder lurking noisily about,/
 but the old man's neighbor, Miss Smith, whose face looked odd with doubt./
 
 For this luxury house did not belong to poor old Grump,/
 but to the young woman Miss Smith, who was a bit too plump.
 "How does he keep on getting back inside," wondered Miss Smith./
 "It was almost as if the man had a lock picking kit."/
 
 But that is impossible due to Grump's mental sickness./
 However his mind did display a bizzare quickness./
 "Come on let us get you home," said Miss Smith quite paranoid./
 "No thanks, lassie I'll walk myself home," said Grump quite annoyed./
 
 He scurried out of the room with a wide smile on his face./
 He left with such speed it was as if he was in a race./
 Old man Grump reached into his pockets which were oddly filled,/
 and took out pounds of luscious jewelry, all the while thrilled./
 
 "Works every time, and she hasn't suspected it yet,"/
 said a lying old man with a grin on his face. "No sweat."/
 For Mr. Grump wasn't a schizophrenic sick old man,/
 but a mean swindler who has developed a cunning plan./
 
 *The slash represents the end of the line.

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