By: Toby Good
There once was a boy named...
Oh, what was he called?
Ah, that's such a shame
But it really doesn't matter after all.
But this boy would stand where he stood
And watch all the children play in his neighborhood
They would run, and they'd joke
They'd play tag and they'd poke
But their favorite thing of all
Was the thing they called a jump rope.
They would take turns leaping in and out
They would take turns frolicking all about
They were always happy, not one of them would pout
Except the lonely boy from our story, who always felt left out.
It wasn't the children's fault though,
They always invited the lonely boy.
Everytime they asked, he would simply say "no".
His reasoning however differed everytime,
He was either too scared, too busy, or needed to make a dime.
So the other kids eventually stopped asking.
What is the point when the answer never changes?
What is the point when the lonely boy won't admit how strange it is?
They jumped, he stood.
They jumped, he stood.
They moved, he stayed.
In the same house for 30 years.
It was really everyone's greatest fear.
Until it became 60 years.
So long that his eyes became too dry to shed tears.
But each year he moved closer to that rope.
Each year the children changed, but he had more and more hope.
When the universal clock told the lonely man that he was eighty-five.
He finally decided that it was time... this was a sign.
The man had finally gained the courage,
The man had finally been given a reason.
As he approached the double-dutch ring,
He asked if he was interrupting,
"No." the children said.
This must be his calling.
So he took his leap of faith.
His very first... and very last.
The ropes very literally split him in half.
There was blood everywhere... it was a real big mess.
The children ran to their parents, with a great deal of distress.
I don’t know that there's a moral to this story.
Maybe don't wait until you're eighty-five to jump rope?
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