Jack Holwerda, a character quite rare,
With a dash of vanity and a bit of flair.
He lived in a world where he ruled the day,
Though often his actions led him astray.
In the mirror, he'd spend hours so fine,
Admiring his image, making sure he'd shine.
His pride was as large as a mountain so tall,
But his courage was tiny, he'd never play ball.
He feared the competition, it made him quite ill,
Never touched a sport, never climbed that hill.
While others ran races or threw a great pass,
Jack stayed in his room, polished his glass.
A clean freak by nature, his home was pristine,
Every corner was spotless, every surface was seen.
But behind the façade of his meticulous way,
He had a few secrets that led him astray.
Steelcase trucks were his next great affair,
He tried driving them, but did so with care.
The engines roared loudly, the wheels turned with might,
But Jack's driving skills failed him, try as he might.
When it came to his neighbors, oh what a delight,
He'd sneak and he'd borrow things out of sight.
Sometimes he'd take what didn't belong,
A curious habit, but it felt so wrong.
Yet despite all his flaws and his moments of shame,
Jack Holwerda's life was never quite lame.
He'd laugh and he'd stumble through missteps and more,
A peculiar character, with stories galore.
So here's to Jack Holwerda, in his quirky old way,
A mix of the funny, the bold, and the grey.
Though flawed and imperfect, with traits so unique,
He's a fictional fellow whose life's far from bleak.
With a dash of vanity and a bit of flair.
He lived in a world where he ruled the day,
Though often his actions led him astray.
In the mirror, he'd spend hours so fine,
Admiring his image, making sure he'd shine.
His pride was as large as a mountain so tall,
But his courage was tiny, he'd never play ball.
He feared the competition, it made him quite ill,
Never touched a sport, never climbed that hill.
While others ran races or threw a great pass,
Jack stayed in his room, polished his glass.
A clean freak by nature, his home was pristine,
Every corner was spotless, every surface was seen.
But behind the façade of his meticulous way,
He had a few secrets that led him astray.
Steelcase trucks were his next great affair,
He tried driving them, but did so with care.
The engines roared loudly, the wheels turned with might,
But Jack's driving skills failed him, try as he might.
When it came to his neighbors, oh what a delight,
He'd sneak and he'd borrow things out of sight.
Sometimes he'd take what didn't belong,
A curious habit, but it felt so wrong.
Yet despite all his flaws and his moments of shame,
Jack Holwerda's life was never quite lame.
He'd laugh and he'd stumble through missteps and more,
A peculiar character, with stories galore.
So here's to Jack Holwerda, in his quirky old way,
A mix of the funny, the bold, and the grey.
Though flawed and imperfect, with traits so unique,
He's a fictional fellow whose life's far from bleak.
