As he was walking down the street
One foot fell off,
An embarrassing incident
He manage to cover with a cough.
Just twenty yards further
To his despair
He discovered that
He wasn't even there.
Time, he thought, to
End his roam
So he turned about and
Walked back home
There he realised,
With a wince,,
He wasn't in.
Nobody's seen him since.
There's just a space
Where he used to be
And cup of cold
Unsweetened tea
And the impression
Of one foot
In a pile
Of fallen soot.
So ends
This sad sad tale of sorrow
Gone today
And still gone tomorrow.
Just occaisionally someone
May not quite meet
A one footed man there on the street.
