A Day in the Lift?

Walking out

one Summer morn;

thanking the world

that I’d been born;

I tripped and fell

and broke my arm;

I never thought I’d come to harm;

I got right up

and stumbled on;

until I saw a telethon,

flying low it bit my ear,

will I get well?

I wait to hear.

Returning then

from whence I’d gone,

I walked into a pantechnicon;

it took me then

to who knows where,

and deprived me of my underwear.

Escaping from its evil grasp,

I sought a brooch

and found a clasp;

I held on tight,

with broken arm,

and realised,

to my alarm,

that in the clutches of this thing,

I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring –

I woke to find

my doze had ended,

and so a fire escape

I then befriended.