Its Not Me Poem by D. S. Jones

There are certain things that go missing
all around my house
Could it be a Gremlin that hid my favorite blouse?
Maybe it was something more
When my scissors went astray
A third dimension quite unknown
where objects go to stay?
I've hunted for my glasses,
and then I found my keys,
Where do all the pencils go
and paper, if you please.
I'm really quite organized
so these things seem all so strange
but, could there be a ghost of sorts
that likes to rearrange?
I'm sure I'm not the one at fault
my memory's quite it tact,
But if you find where I parked my car
Would you bring it back?