The outside was clean
No one thought any bad
He was nice and not mean
He had a way with words everyone wished that they had

But one morning he awoke with a chill
And opened his mouth to find something black
Confused and startled, he climbed the cemetery hill
But his whole body was out of wack

He moved in a frightening way
All his limbs going limp
And when he asked someone to stay
They said "No, you're a gimp!"

They all avoided him
And this made it worse
Henry, Lucy and even Tim
He was convinced he was cursed

With his insides darkening
And his entire being crumbling in
He found himself harkening
For anyone who would listen

But no one did
No one came to his aid
He was only a kid
But to play with him, all the parents forbade

They feared him contagious
Like polio or the black plague
They thought him outrageous
Because he preferred to dwell in the shade

It was only his way
And he didn't know why
He'd moved on and they stayed
And at his brain, they pryed

They tried to figure him out
They failed and gave up
They said they would talk but instead it was a shout
He didn't know what was up

No one knew what the matter was
So soon he was forgotten
He felt like furry peach fuzz
On the outside of a fruit that was rotten