Granny’s lost her lottery win

Granny’s lost her lottery win. Poem 2

Granny picked up her million with glee,

A life of riches, wild and free.

But as she smiled and held her prize,

The men swarmed round like pesky flies.

“Marry me, love,” they crooned and sighed,

But Granny just smirked and waved goodbye.

She booked a trip to Skegness town,

Packed her bags, and shot straight down.

On the beach, beneath the sun,

She thought her new life had just begun.

There stood a toy boy,

young and spry (oops, lively!)

With charm that twinkled in his eye.

They danced, they laughed,

they shared a toast,

But Granny soon became his host.

For while she dreamed of seaside bliss,

He eyed her purse—and gave it a miss.

One morning she woke,

her bags were bare,

Her toy boy vanished into thin air.

Back she came to her humble flat,

Richer in tales, but broke—that’s that!

Now Granny chuckles, her story told,

“You can’t buy sense with pots of gold.

But life’s for living, both fast and loud—

And Skegness left me mighty proud!”