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A decrepit old coot she was not
Though her body parts told otherwise

Whenever she walked, she made a strange sound
So she wasn’t a big hit with the guys

No matter how hard she tried
They ignored poor Josephine, until

They found out the secret she hides
Kept in the old lumber mill

Sneaking in quietly, late one night
They made their way, through the dark

One lit a match to see where they were
But all he did, was create a huge spark!

The place went up like a bonfire
Seems they found ole Josey’s still

Now all there is, is a cranky old maid
Sitting on top, of what’s left, of the mill

 

March Writing Prompt:  Creaky Cranks – Day 5/31

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