Mr. Finnegan

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Mr. Finnegan


Out again, in again

Went Mr. Finnegan

Down at the corner store.

Outside or inside,

He could not decide,

So spent all day at the door.

 

He'd say, "How do you do?"

As people passed through

With a smile and nod of his head.

And hold the door wide,

As they entered inside,

To purchase their milk and bread.


“Oh, poor Mr. Finnegan”,

Said sweet little Imogen

With her kind and friendly smile.

“I don’t understand why

you cannot decide…”

Then sat with him for a while.


“The trouble, my dear,

Is an odd kind of fear

I’m missing out on the things going on.

On each side of a door

Are great things to explore

And if I miss them then they could be gone.”


She wrinkled her nose

And said, “I suppose…”

As she thought about what he had said. 

Then she had a great thought

A thought that she ought

Might be able to help her good friend.


“Mr Finnegan,” she said,

As she tilted her head,

“I’m sorry, but isn’t it true?

That you’ll miss all that goes on

If neither side you’ll be on

Until you decide to go through?”


“But, once you decide

To be outside or inside

Then, at least, you can enjoy that half...”

That thought did then cause

Mr. Finnegan to pause. 

And then he let loose a great laugh!


“Oh, sweet little Imogen!”

Said old Mr. Finnegan,

“Of course, my dear, you are right!

I have been so daft!”

And, again, he did laugh,

“I feel so very contrite!”


“All the things that I’ve missed,

The great things that exist,

On this side of the door, or that.

All because of my fears

That had kept me, for years,

Being such an awfully big prat.”


At that great moment he knew

Exactly what he should do

And walked right into the store. 

He then changed his ways. 

And for the rest of his days,

Never spent all day at the door. 


THE END