Sense Sonnet - Tickler

Stuck on the Job

The newspapers piled by the door
Told me this was the house to rob.
An alarm added to my chore,
So I opted to start the job
By climbing up onto the roof,
And going down the chiminey.
But soon after I felt my goof,
When I got stuck as stuck can be.
To make my story of woe short,
My cries for help brought the police.
Now I'm in jail waiting for Court.
Next time I'm gonna take some grease.

I found out that house was for sale,
And empty. Ain't this a sad tale?