Old Man. Poem by Dezerth Lerexia

The sad man on a chair alone,
if only he'd answer the phone!

It's like he dosen't want company,
Shoulden't I pay him a visit?

His cloth's have wears and tears,
I wish to give him exquisits!

His beard is white and long,
it' as slick and amooth as a dog.

His shoe's are old and torn,
you can certainly tell thier worn.

His sight's as sharp as a thorn,
maby because he's foreign?

He lives in a tiny home,
with a teenie little mouse.

He love's his T.V show,
He missed out on all the snow! Oh, if only he'd answer the phone.