An Old Man Poem by Andytics mufc

An old man
Peoples a house next to ours
He has a sick nose
With no sense of smell
Just imagine
He vehemently condemns our morals
Saying they are rotten
For they fill his old house with a pungent gust of
'stench'

Apparently what he calls a 'stench' is a fragrance
To our nose
Perfumes our day
And what he hates as rotten morals
We embrace like a lover

I eye him
Through the broken windows
Of his house, an eyesore of our neighbourhood
And my heart houses
Serious pity for him

I phone a doctor
To run a thoroughly check up on him
'He has a perfect sense of smell than a hound, 'says the doctor
To my worst surprise
'As a matter of fact its you who has a sick nose, 'adds the doctor
A brutal reality dawns on my face like a chuck norris roundhorse