There Are Mice Living in the Attic


There are mice living in the attic.
I don't know where, I do not care.
All I know is that they are eating my underwear.

My mother tells me I am crazy,
She says that I'm a liar.
"Mice are much too lazy.
"They live under the house and no higher."

She won't even think of it, she wouldn't even dare.
Every time I tell her she turns her head.
So I thought I would give her a scare.
I trapped a mouse and hid it in her bed.

That night there came a screaming
Like a wicked witch that had been dreaming
Of candy canes and trampolines,
Of sweetly stuff and softly things.

My mother tore through the house
Like a rhino stampeding loud.
On top of her head there sat a mouse,
Like the sun, beaming proud.

"Call the militia! Call the police!"
She screamed so frantic.
"Burn down the house. Run down the street!
"There are mice living in the attic!"

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem