Written by: Joseph Osita

My son, Mark is four years old
With scissors he cuts papers and folds
Till he crafts canoe
And once he is through
He'll tag, “Canoe to be sold"

One day he made one so large and tight
To the pool he rushed in delight
And loaded scissors and rocks
As his cerebrum clocks
The paper craft paddled all right

He was so proud like peacock
And unloaded the scissors and rocks
And tried to paddle
He thought it's possible
But he got drowned like a brick

For P.D's contest:"Rock~Paper~Scissors"