Horace Leguaard had a new mobility scooter,
So bright and shiny, with a loud hooter.
Horace delighted in going to the store.
He felt he had racing colours, what is more.
He would travel at full tilt, down to the shops,
“Light the after-burner, pull out all stops!”
Such is manner of Horace’s thought.
As he left his pit stop, his wild breath he caught.
“I must simply be quite the best,”
Cried he, “I, with my scooter, am surely blessed.”

Now, the first step to failure is trying.
Horace tried to be careful when buying,
He’d park his scooter in front of the store,
And, then, hobble inside to make purchases, what is more.
Yesterday, he did just that,
But was surreptitiously hijacked by a nasty brat.
The brat took that opportunity to thieve,
And fire up the scooter so he could leave,
A chase ensued, Horace hobbling at speed.
The brat wanted a joy ride, wasn’t motivated by greed!
Horace tackled him, a dive from an overpass.
He managed a half Nelson on the silly young ass.
“Stop, you’re choking me, I can’t breathe!”
Horace assumed he was trying to deceive.
The brat did gasp, and then pass out,
A fitting end for an irresponsible lout!