Case Of The Comb Poem by Ima Ryma

My six year old daughter came home,
Crying her teacher scolded her
For taking little Billy's comb,
A misunderstanding for sure.
I called the teacher on the phone,
And gave her a piece of my mind.
The teacher did not like my tone.
Granted, some of my words weren't kind.
We all know little Billy be
That teacher's pet who made stuff up,
A fibber in the first degree.
The teacher sure had been fooled, yup!

I was washing my daughter's dress,
And in a pocket did find - guess!