The Man in the Attic

I held a stick within my hands

I held it skritchy scratch

It was long and gangly and dead and

much bigger than a match

I swung it in the air and

Whoosh!

It made me smile and laugh

I ran and swung it round and round

while on the stony path

Then I stopped and stood

and then

I threw the stick an

Smack!

I made the stick proud that day

when it caught that bad man's back.