"The Storyteller"
As a young child, I loved to hear tall tales
Told by the storyteller, to stun, he never fails
Because of his stories, I grew up quite weird
So I went to visit him, and his long white beard
To my disappointment, he wasn't sitting there
At the same old spot, with his book and a pear
Actually to be clear, the whole library was gone
It's now an old house, on a creepy old lawn
I knocked on the door, hoping for someone nice
The door opened, no one answered, except a few mice
I ventured inside, it was dark and dusty
A voice had sounded, it was old and rusty
I followed the quiet sound, past a tall open door
And from that moment I knew, I wasn't leaving anymore...
