It was me!
There was a boy named Charlie who loved to climb trees.
You could always recognize him by his scraped up knees.
When his mother would tell him to come inside
he'd climb up his favorite tree and hide.
You could hear the siren as the firemen zoomed through town.
They had, just had to get that little boy on the ground.
The people would say, "There goes Charlie climbing that tree."
They really shouldn't say that because this time it was me!
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
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