The Doc

Strong as an Ox,
light as a feather.
Zapped by lightning,
and possessed by weather.

His hair standing up straight,
feet blue as the sea.
Only has four fingers,
and a very crooked knee.

Been seen in graveyards,
dissappears at times.
Talks with a cackle,
and always rhymes.

Scared of a mouse,
in love with a croc.
The people in the lab,
call him "The Doc".
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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