I know a funny little man, <br />As quiet as a mouse, <br />Who does the mischief that is done <br />In everybody’s house. <br />There’s no one ever sees his face, <br />And yet we all agree <br />That every plate we break was cracked <br />By Mr., Nobody <br /> <br />‘Tis he who always tears our books, <br />who leaves our doors ajar; <br />he pulls the buttons from our shirts, <br />and scatters pins afar, <br />that squeaking door will always squeak, <br />because of this you see: <br />we leave the oiling to be done <br />by Mr Nobody. <br /> <br />He puts damp wood upon the fire, <br />So kettles cannot boil; <br />His are the feet that bring in mud <br />And all the carpets soil. <br />The papers always are mislaid, <br />Who had them last but he? <br />There’s no one tosses them about <br />But Mr. Nobody<br /><br />Walter de la Mare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mr-nobody-3/
