The Chase
Beep boop bop, the mouse stared at the clock.
The clock struck twelve; the mouse did delve
But his hand was bound to get caught.
The cheese fell below as the hand came to.
The mouse heard cries, and thought it through.
Saying a prayer, he lied to the sky.
Asked for last rites when a man walked by.
The man looked down, to his disgust.
A mouse had found his hopeless rust.
The man was angered, riddled with emotion.
He had whittled and whittled, causing so much commotion.
See his wife had left him, taking his things.
So he spent so much time just eating his cheese.
He'd sit with his cheese and his knives on the bench.
In between carving, he'd slice off some French.
In his first go, he built his own clock.
And finished some Gruyere that looked like a rock.
He had been inclined, due to disheveled
To clean the remnants of his embezzle.
A room full of lies, the wood he all stole.
Just for a hobby, he left a trail of soul.
The vacuum turned on, as he set to clean up.
A mouse saw the chance to come and re-up.
As it was, the wood working was done.
Now it was time; a chase had begun.
Beep boop bop; a chase has begun.