Hey, Angry Man with a Manicured Lawn

Hey, Angry Man with a manicured lawn
You were like a troll 
Guarding the only safe passage
Between two kingdoms,
But you only lived
On a corner
Of Skipwith Farms.
Hey, Angry Man with a manicured lawn
Most of the time the grass was burned out
And your little fence
May have kept us off 
Your pine needle free yard,
But your green space wasn’t any better
Than all the other neighbors
Who actually said, “hello” 
When we walked home from school
Come to think of it, Angry Man,
You never said anything to us,
But you glared
Like a troll holding a weed whacker
Ready to pounce if we got too close
Or willing to unleash that 
Yapping dog you had caged up
To protect that perfectly edged grass.
Hey, Angry Man with the manicured lawn,
As my friend always says,

“I ain’t mad atcha.”