Poem (2) - There Once was a Man Named Mo

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There once was a man named Mo

He lived in the house next to me

He rarely went out

So I wondered why

And decided to pay him a visit

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I knocked on his door

And a maid answered

“Scuse me,” I said

“But doesn’t Mo live here?”

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“I’m afraid he’s sick in bed, good sir”

“Oh, well may I visit?”

“Can't let you, he’s terribly sick”

“Then I shall come back later”

And with that, I left

The next day, I went back

But this time no one answered the door

I walked around the house

It looked like nobody was home

So I left a note taped to the door

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I later found out

he had been taken to a hospital

“The maid was right,” I said to myself

“He was terribly, terribly sick”

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A week goes by without a peep

Once again, I go over and knock

This time, a young man answers

“Scuse me, good sir, but how’s Mo?” I asked

“Mo? Who’s Mo?”

“Why, he’s the old man that lives here”

“No sir. No Mo lives here. Only I”

“What happened to him?”

“I do not know”

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I left and said nothing more

But back at my house, as soon as I entered

I saw old Mo

Sitting in my rocking chair

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