My Brother

I had a small made brother when I was four,
Just two years younger than me,
But as he wanted to grow,
He grew so much more,
That he became almost double the size of me.

He grew at such speed,
That soon he became as tall as a tree,
And when I said “You are so tall, brother”,
He just looked down at me.

He grew so tall,
That when he climbed in his bunk,
He discovered it was far too small,
And had to buy all sorts of junk,
To make a bed as big for none was available in the mall.

He would always wear a pair of boots,
And a jacket of gold or silver,
For if he didn’t do that,
He would feel too cold,
And surely he would shiver.

For even having this height,
It would give him a fright,
To hear of the woman in blue.

The woman in blue,
A Witch or a Fairy,
I have no clue,
But her stories are so scary,

Because, she is supposed to,
Touch a person’s skin,
Burn his chin,
And then hide in a bottle of glue.
But all these stories,
Are just for babies,
So is this poem,
I am sharing with you.

For in real life,
My brother is just three hundred and five,
Times as tall as a knife.

A knife that is thrice,
As tall as a matchstick,
That is twice,
The size of your eyes.

Height,Length,Circumference,
The more accurate the better,
For then only will you be able to measure
The real height of my brother,
Who is at least twice the size of Jupiter