The Man in our Street

In a quiet neighborhood where the children play,

Lives a man with a smile that’s a bit far away.

His garden’s a jungle, with weeds standing tall,

And whispers of secrets seem to dance through the hall.

With a hat pulled down low and a coat buttoned tight,

He strolls through the night, an odd, weird sight.

His eyes dart like fireflies, flickering fast,

While he hums a tune from a long-ago past.

The exchange glances, a mix of fear and delight,

Is he friend or a phantom that hunts through the night?

He collects things, old trinkets and stuff full of rust,

While others just wonder, “In him can we trust?”

But beneath the odd surface, beneath the strange air,

Lies a heart full of stories, if only we dare.

Perhaps he’s a poet, with words left unspun,

Or an artist who paints with the glow of the sun.

So let’s greet the man with a wave and a smile,

For behind the odd curtain, there’s often a style.

In the world of the quirky, there’s magic galore,

who knows what wonders in the creepy man’s store?

So here’s to our neighbour, with mysteries in tow,

Let’s share a kind moment, and let friendship grow.

For sometimes what’s creepy can turn into cheer,

If we open our hearts and just bring him near.