Chacha Mooh Zore, as I suspect, Is on a mission to correct The unintended mortal harm Caused by graciousness and charm He thrives on anger, feeds on rage Refusing to mellow with age In this grim world he doesn't find Sufficient reason to unwind Explodes at the slightest excuse It's hard to find a shorter fuse With merciless verbal strikes Imposes his likes and dislikes The ambience, in his presence, Is tense with mysterious suspense Feeble hearts tremble with terror What if something happened in error A tender feeling, I can tell, If he has one, is hidden well Chachi spends her life in wonder Why grouchy Chacha likes to thunder Except when, on a full stomach, He snores in the backyard hummock!
