A humorous poem that explores the frustration of losing items
I have a little Gremlin who lives inside my house.
He’s sneaky as a thief and quiet as a mouse.
He takes my things and moves them when I’m not around.
I’d like to take a hammer and give his head a pound.
He even follows me on my daily treks.
I’d like to call a witch and have her cast a hex.
I think I’ve found a secret to break his awful spell.
Listen to my story, for it’s a great one to tell.
Be careful where you put things; make sure they’re in their place.
That way your precious items you never will misplace.
If your little Gremlin happens to be your spouse.
Show him where the door is and ban him from your house.
If your child is guilty of this dreadful deed,
Then take a nice sharp knife and cut him where he’ll bleed.
And if you are the guilty party, I know just what to do.
Buy the self-same item and then you’ll have two.
For just as soon as you do this, the lost item will appear.
I don’t why this happens; it’s all so very queer.
And now my sad, sad story has finally reached its end.
I hope this silly poem does not offend.