I answered the phone and I balked at his voice.
I wouldn’t have answered if I’d had the choice.
But ‘cos of my lunacy, ‘cos of my luck,
I’d picked up the phone call and now I was stuck.
It was not my Papa and was not my Pop.
He started to talk and the guy would not stop.
The fellow that caused me to whinge and to whine?
(Can you finish this poem? 😀)