There once was a fellow
Whose complexion appeared golden yellow.
Wrinkles traced his drooping eyes,
Each morning awakening for an early rise.
Clothed in copper-colored corduroy pants,
One might mistake him at first glance.

Charles was his name,
And his wife was to blame.
Yesterday, while sipping her afternoon tea,
Old man Charles quickly escaped to flee.
Placing a note on the front door,
He said that he would be at the grocery store.

Getting into his Mitsubishi Mirage,
He navigated the vehicle out of the garage.
As his devious plan falls into place,
A cigarette is brought to his face.
Puffing out the smoke like a child blows bubbles,
He reflects upon his many troubles.