His knee looked as if someone painted blood on him,

Gangly and nearly broken, Craig lifted his bad knee

And started down the train tracks, trying to race

Before his mother got home

What would he tell her? I fell off my bike again,

He thought to himself. Gangly.

He touched the bruise and let out a yell.

Then to clamp his mouth shut, and to keep on

With his bike in tow.

Late he got home, and his mother already there

with a scowl on her face.

"Gangly! That is what I am going to call you from now on!" she yelled.

It made him feel no better.