Digital Dimdima

POEM

The Crooked Man

There lives a crooked man,
Just next door.
But now I canít stand him,
Anymore.

I kept a yard sale,
To earn some money.
I sold it to the crooked man,
He gave me but a crooked penny.

Then, when I was fast asleep
At night, very soon.
He pushed me down
That night under the full moon.

I asked him then, why?
He pushed me out of the van.
He said to me, that
It was not his mistake of
Being a crooked man.

Aakanksha Hejmadi
IV B
Queen Mary school

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