I’ve been wanting to write something about this for a long time. It’s a 10-line poem.
Cranky old man, he is.
Wouldn’t mess with him, if I were you.
Knock on his door, I did one day,
A loud holler “Who the f*&^ is it,” came the answer,
Open the door, he eventually did with one hand behind his back,
Get a peek of what he held in his hand, I eventually did,
A small gun, apparently.
My neighbor, a Korean-war veteran,
Rush Limbaugh is his favorite radio station,
And I’d stay f^$@#*% away from him, if I were you.