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.
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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