The Grin

On a corner of the street is a book store
I sit outside asking if anyone would buy me one
From the window I peep
Emest Hemingway, William Faulkner to Jane Austen I see
Colorful books dazzled they keep
But there isn’t a change in my pocket for me to sweep
The owner would on and on shush and throw me away
Just then I was once again trying to go in
I met Mr.Stephen Edwin King 
He looked terrific with a grin
No wonder he wrote those horror scene
Few minutes after staring at him
I went on asking him the same thing
“Mr. king! would you buy me one?”
Without a word he just went in
I sat out for an hour waiting for someone else to come by
I don’t know why is it always scary with Mr.King 
He burst the door and came out with a swing
I fumbled with words when I saw him bring
Dozens of books tied up with a sling
He asked me to carry them back to his home
Perplexed, amazed by the situation I looked like a gnome
After a short walk I saw a fine dome
Glittering, shining plated with chrome
I rang the bell with a ding
Down came running Mrs.King 
Politely she asked me to put the book in
For my dismay they did not give me a return in
As my face frowning with dispirit saw Mr.king
He invited me to his library and told me to read
I could see thousands of book staring back at me
Mr.Stephen Edwin King 
He looked terrific with a grin
With whom I had a deep cling
Thank you Mr.King 
Thank you Mr.King


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