On the end of the street,
There’s a rusty old house,
Which is inhabited by a dirty mouse.
There’s a crooked old man,
Who received a ban
From football, by his manager.
There’s also a chatterbox,
Really a person who loves a fox,
She’s a talkative old lady
Who has a daughter called Heidi.
So they lived until the age of 99,
Which was really old
And then their house had to be sold.
Hi Sarvesh. I took the liberty of adding a bit on the end of your poem. I hope that’s okay. It ended a bit suddenly, so I thought you could add a rhyme, and round the poem off by mentioning its subject again.